


Princess of the Concubines

by Turion



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Blood and Gore, Concubine, F/M, Fluff, PoW, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Smut, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 68,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turion/pseuds/Turion
Summary: An heir, never banished. A Water Tribe Princess bound in golden shackles and a gilded cage. The Avatar returns to a world much changed and divided. Horrors of the war plague him, yet the memory of her daunting blue eyes haunt him. "AANG RUN!" a guttural scream ripped itself from her throat. "KATARA!"
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 87
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a revamped version of the original story that I wrote on FanFiction a long time ago It will have a more adult and dark theme. In this story, the Avatar is thought to be dead. The belief is that Avatar Roku died in the avatar state. The Air Nomads are still around and the Southern Water Tribe was decimated. There were only a small band of survivors left. 
> 
> As for characters ages:
> 
> Zuko, Sokka, Yue & Suki - 23
> 
> Katara, Azula, Mai, TyLee - 21
> 
> Toph & Aang - 19
> 
> Other character ages will be added later on when they appear in the story.

Water. Earth. Fire. Air.

Her grandmother used to tell her stories about the old days. A time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation and Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar mastered all four elements. Only the Avatar could stop the ruthlessness of the Fire Nation. But when the world needed him, he vanished. A hundred years passed and the Fire Nation is nearing victory in the Great War. Seven years ago, her father and the men of her tribe journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help fight against the fire nation. Leaving her and her brother to look after their tribe. Some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Air Nomads and that they cycle is broken. But she hasn’t lost hope. She knows the Avatar will return to save the world.

***~*~***

Eyelids flutter lethargically as her vision spirals in and out of focus. The metal room echos with the sound of shifting chains and her labored breaths. A dry cough forces its way past her lips and her body shudders violently in retaliation. Katara presses her forehead deeper into the cool metal floor as she tries to piece together how long she has been in captivity.

“Drink, waterbender,” a gravelly voice echos as a ladle of water is shoved into her face. Averting her gaze, she angles her head away from the offering earning a scuff at her defiance.

The ladle twists, dumping water onto the metal flooring beneath her knees, “Should you change your mind,” the soldier laughs as he pulls the long ladled spoon from her cage.

Silently she watches as the water pools between her bent knees, mixing with the other fluids that contaminate the floor of her suspended cell. Normally she would be surprised at the sheer carelessness, but she supposes it is the trust they hold in the chi blocker’s ability that allows for such bold and reckless behavior. A dry sigh escapes her, passing through cracked lips. Every time she swallows she can feel the raw burn in her throat. She needs water but she is far too stubborn to accept it from them.

She wonders briefly if Sokka and the others managed to escape. If he managed to escape. She did not care what happened to her, so long as the others were able to flee from the attack. The end to this war did not hinge on her survival. She chuckled darkly to herself. No, the world would continue on even if there was one less waterbender in it. But without him in it, all hope would be lost. Suddenly there is a rough jerking motion, the metal cuffs around her wrists dig into the irritated flesh. Another jolt has her cage swaying and she twists her fingers to grip around the chains that hold her arms suspended, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

Alarms sound. The clattering of boots against the metal grated flooring and orders being barked out told her all she needs to know. They have finally made port in the Fire Nation.

Taking deep breaths she begins to flex her fingers. Weeks without use has caused them to stiffen. The bones and tendons crack and snap as a tingling, prickling sensation dances across the skin of her hands. Her eyes drift back to the fluid at her knees and she wonders if the effects of the chi blocker truly worked on her. Slowly she begins to circle her forefinger around, trying to move the liquid somewhat and she can feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones. The water ripples several times before jerking to the call of her finger. Her feline eyes narrow as a small smirk settles across her lips. She hurriedly motions her hands upward, bringing the fluid to float before her. She parts it with ease before she swiftly jerks her arms backwards. The liquid follows her command as it seeps into the sleeves of her tattered parka and wraps around her forearms beneath like bracers. With a clench of her fists the liquid hardens and freezes there, hidden to all.

While in captivity she has heard the soldiers murmuring about the fate of all those imprisoned on the ship. If there is one thing she knows to be true, it is that she will not see it past the docks.

It is only moments later that two soldiers come to her cage. She hears the twisting of gears and watches with a firm gaze as her cage is lowered to the ground. One soldier steps up, unlocking the door before yanking the chain towards him. As he un-cuffs each of her hands they fall to the floor with a resounding thud. A deep sigh escape her and she can feel the blood rushing through her arms, all the way down to the tips of her fingers.

She slowly looks up at the soldier as he reaches down for her hands, “Wait—” the other outside the cell pauses, looking at the floor, “what happened to all the water?” His eyes snap to her accusingly, fists coming to life with fire. The other soldier begins to shift into a defensive stance but she is not afraid.

“I was thirsty,” her voice cracks after weeks of silence.

Both make a disgusted face and soon relax, fire leaving their hands, “Disgusting fuck,” the one before her snarls as he snatches her wrists and begins to fasten the manacles around them. He hauls her up with force and pushes her out onto the walkway.

“Move it!” The other snaps as his hand lands between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward.

As they force her through the ship, she makes sure to note how many prisoners were from the resistance. None so far resembled her brother and thankfully none look like him.

They make their way out of the belly of the ship and step into the light of day. Her eyes squint and she blinks repeatedly as she tries to adjust to such a harsh exposure. Her cuffed hands come of to block out the light and it is then that she hears him.

“Katara!” Her eyes widen as she drops her hands to see a young Water Tribe warrior struggling against his captors.

Blood pounds in her ears, almost silencing everything around her, “Sokka—” she breathed out, taking a step closer.

He struggles against the soldiers as they try to contain him. Shifting roughly, he digs his foot into the dock and swings his head back, knocking one of them square in the nose. Sokka takes advantage of the man’s sudden stunned behavior and bolts for her.

He reaches out to her, “Katara!” and she reaches back, but to no avail. Hands are on them both, pulling and tugging at their bodies, forcing them apart.

Tears swell in her eyes as she screams for him, kicking and thrashing like a raged moose lion.

“Let go of me!” He yells with such ferocity that it shakes Katara to her core. This is not how it will end. He will not die here. She will not let Sokka fall to the mercy of the Fire Nation.

Before anyone could register what was happening, Katara summons the water beneath her parka and forces the soldiers from her. Dropping and spinning on her heel, she swipes the legs out from under them while coating her fingers with water stilettos. A swift flick of her wrists and blood surges from their necks. All that can be heard are their gargling pleas for life. Turning quickly she charges for Sokka, her fingers twitch and she can hear the roar of the ocean behind her.

“Sokka duck!” He drops to the floor as she surges forward, arms cycling around her body. The water follows her movements and slices through the rows of soldiers around them. Before anyone could regain their composure, the water floods the dock in a tidal wave as she commands a stream to pull Sokka to her side.

“Katara, you’re alright!” His voice is panicked as he his eyes scan her body for injuries.

Feeling weighted down she sheds her parka, leaving her in nothing but her tunic and fur trimmed leggings.

“Gather the others,” she yells, freezing his manacles before slicing through them. Her eyes catch sight of a small merchant ship, enough for the prisoners. Sokka catches sight of it as well. He nods, running off and yelling at the others. But Katara is no longer focused on him. The soldiers clustering together up ahead has her undivided attention. Water begins to swirl around her as she settles into her stance. Long tentacles emerge from her element and she begins to lash out as each soldier approaches. The water engulfs the flames as they try to penetrate her rotating shield but she knows she cannot hold them off for too much longer. She averts her gaze to check on her brother’s progress and notes that everyone is running towards the ship.

With a guttural yell, she arcs her arms from her chest outward, balls of water forming before they engulf the head of each soldier. With a clench of her fist all orbs of water freeze dropping the men and women on the deck like ostrichflies.

Quickly, Katara runs for the boat. She pushes people in the small crowd with urgency onto the boat, “Hurry! Come on! Get on the boat!” She yells before bringing forth more water and freezing each prisoners set of cuffs. Shattering noises echo in her ears as she locks eyes with Sokka.

She must have that look, one of finality, because he is running towards her with every ounce of energy.

“Don’t you dare—” pulling water between the vessel and the dock, she begins to push them out to sea.

“Tell dad I love him Sokka!”

“Katara!” He tries to lung from the boat but hands grab at him, keeping him in place, “Katara!” She can see his tears and she wishes she had held him one last time.

“I love you Sokka! Never forget!”

“Don’t do this!” He yells as the boat continues to drift further away.

“Don’t come back for me! Tell him to focus on his training! Tell him he no longer needs me. I’ve taught him all that I know.”

Tears gather in her eyes at the thought of never seeing them again, “Katara!”

The sound of boots vastly approaching from behind her forces her to creat a massive tidal wave. By the time it settles, the ship is no longer in view.

“Goodbye Sokka.”

The world around her begins to swim, a darkness encroaches on her vision and she feels weak. But it does not matter. By the time she feels their hands on her, Katara’s world is shrouded in darkness.

***~*~***

“What do you mean the prisoners have escaped?” her tone cool and sharp. Golden eyes narrow as manicured nails dig into the flesh of her palms.

“Apologies Princess—”

“I don’t want your apologies or excuses, Captain. I want action. Retrieve the prisoners or don’t bother coming back.”

“Yes Princess,” he bows profusely before scurrying away.

Her eyes hone in on the crumpled body at her feet and she uses the toe of her boot to roll it on its back. She clicks her tongue as she takes in the singed clothing, fresh burns and greased hair.

“So this is what managed to subdue an entire unit of elite firebenders?” she mutters to herself.

The soldiers are lined up behind her at attention and she is quick to spin on her heel, eyeing them with distain.

“Pathetic,” she sneers as she begins to make her way to the palanquin.

“Load that peasant onto the cart!” she orders.

“Yes Princess Azula!” the soldiers yell in unison.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara finally meets the Fire Lord and his heirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I’m doing a rapid post for the first 6 chapters that I have done so far

Her blood feels like it is on fire. Skin hot and sticky. She rolls her head back and forth, groaning at the sharp pain at the base of her neck. Slowly she blinks her eyes open and she tries to sit up.

"Take it slow," a hushed voice comes from behind her.

It startles her and her system surges with a short burst of adrenaline, allowing her to bolt upright. Her hand immediately cups her forehead as she is struck with a dizzy spell.

"I told you to take it slow," a soft chuckle follows.

Katara turns to the owner of the voice and finds a young woman sitting behind her, knees pressed up against her chest. The woman seems to be around her age. Skin kissed by the sun, but not quite as dark as Katara's. Her hair reminds Katara of chestnuts, but it looks corse like straw and her hazel eyes are wide and hold something akin to innocence. Soot and dirt decorate her skin and her tunic seems to be in the same condition as Katara's. Absolutely pathetic. She smiles weakly at the young woman.

"How long…" Katara trails off, her eyes shyly meeting the young woman's.

"They brought you here a little over a day ago—"

Katara groaned, "I've been unconscious the entire time?"

The girl shakes her head softly, "You have been slipping in and out of consciousness throughout the day."

Katara nods, leaning back against metal bars. It is only then that she realizes that she is once again inside another cell.

"Where are we?"

The girl gives her a quizzical look, "Um…we are in the Fire Na—"

Katara waves her off, "I meant what prison did they bring us to?"

The girl's eyes shift back and forth, not knowing quite how to answer her. She can feel Katara's gaze on her and she cannot help the shaky breath that escapes her.

"They did not tell you?" she asks softly.

Katara shook her head, "They really didn't have an opportunity to," she smirks, remembering the scuffle at the docks.

"Oh," the girl sighs, leaning against the wall, "we are in the Fire Lord's palace."

Katara's entire body stiffens. Her features darken as she narrows her eyes at the young woman. Why would they bring her here? Why didn't they just kill her for her defiance or send her off to the Boiling Rock?

Her mind ticks as she clenches and unclenches her jaw, "why?"

An unmistakable emotion takes over the girl's features, one that causes a sinking feeling in Katara's stomach. Her next words itch at Katara's suspicion.

"Why else would they bring captive females to the royal household?" she huffs angrily.

Katara shakes her head, "Surely they are not that barbaric—"

"Do not be naïve," the girl snaps, "it will not save you from our situation."

Katara bristles at the girl's anger towards her and she seems to notice. Her body deflates as she sighs once more, throwing an apologetic look Katara's way.

"I'm sorry. I'm just…scared."

Katara nods slowly.

They sit in silence for several moments before the girl breaks it, "I'm Jin."

"Katara."

"Where are you from Katara?"

For a moment she wonders if her question was a serious one. She looks down at her rustic blue tunic, thinking it should be a dead give away, yet she still entertains the girl's curiosity.

Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she mulls over the question before slowly answering, "The Joint Water Tribes."

Jin nods, "Ba Sing Se."

Katara hums in response. She shifts slightly and hisses at the sharp pain that pulsates in her hip and Jin gives her a knowing look.

"A chi blocker came shortly before you woke up."

Katara scuffs, "A lot of good that did them the first time."

"This one is different," Jin answers with a shrug of her shoulders.

Curiosity peeked, "How so?" Katara asks as she rubs her hip.

"She's chatty, has a perky attitude and clad in pink from head to toe. Wide eyed and has an innocent feel to her, but there is something off about her. Can't quite place it."

Katara sighs, "Doesn't mean she is more effective though."

Jin nods, "I overheard the guards talking about needing the original chi blocker to work on you. Something about the one they had on the ship when they transported you didn't do a very good job."

Katara chuckles, "I was able to bend still."

"I know. I heard about the scuffle at the docks," Jin smiles, her face turns serious, "wish I had been on your ship during transport though."

The underlying message in her statement is there. Katara feels sympathy for the woman and they share a knowing look.

Sighing, Katara braves a small smile, "As selfish as it sounds, I am glad that I will have a friend while here."

Jin returns her smile, "Yeah, me too."

Both women drift in and out of consciousness over the course of the next few days. The guards bring them food and herbal teas every couple of hours, but Katara has yet to see this chi blocker that Jin spoke of.

"I wonder why the chi blocker hasn't been summoned back…" Katara muses one night out loud.

Jin lifts her chin, eyes settling on the tea Katara holds in her hand, "It's the tea," she continues to shovel rice into her mouth, "no need for the chi blocker so long as they have you on the herbs."

Katara sits there, stunned for a moment before looking down at the steaming cup in her hands. How could she have been so stupid? She tosses the tea out and slams the cup down onto the tray next to her. Jin eyes her for a moment before discarding her and continuing to eat.

"How long does it take for the effects to wear off?" she asks.

Jin pauses briefly, brow raising as she looks upward, thinking, "After consistent ingestion, I'd say a couple of days."

"Oh Tui!" Katara hisses, banging her head back against the wall.

While caught up in her thoughts, the sound of approaching steps alerts both women. Jin sets her tray aside, shuffling closer to Katara's side and wrapping her fingers around her forearm.

Two guards step up to the cell door, "Lets go," the door screams as it opens for the women, "we don't have all day."

"Where are you taking us?" Katara demands boldly.

The soldier steps into the cell, grabbing the front of Jin's tunic, hauling her to her feet.

"Let go of me!" she screams and Katara is quick to follow suit.

"Let her go!" Katara yells, throwing a perfectly aimed teacup at the soldier's helmet.

He grunts in frustration, tossing Jin into the other man's arms and reaches out for Katara, "Water wench!" he hisses.

Katara tries to escape his grip, but he is far too strong. Her hand to hand combat skills are nothing in comparison to her bending. Soon both she and Jin are being hauled from the palace's underground holding cells to the main level and their hearts are pounding.

As they make their way through the massive halls and corridors of the palace, Katara is amazed at the beauty it held. Never did she think that a place filled with such malice and violence could be so wonderfully beautiful. Soft whispers reach Katara's ears as they are being dragged through blood red halls with ornate golden trim. Men and women dressed in fine silk robes, pale skin and golden eyes stare openly at the foreign women. One thing she notes is that there are soldiers everywhere. Some are posted at entryways while others are roaming the palace grounds.

Soon they come to large ornate doors, decorated with dragons and their flaming breath. Two guards that stood post began to push open the massive doors, revealing a columned room. Dimly lit lanterns hung off each column as the main source of light was a brilliant wall of fire. In the center of the room was a large table with a map of the world etched into its grain. A cough catches her attention and that is when Katara notices the uniform clad men seated at the low seating table. All were resting on their knees, pillows tucked underneath them neatly. Their ages varied from middle aged to elderly and Katara could only guess that they were all high ranking officials from the Fire Lord's military.

As they pass the table, both Katara and Jin are forced to their knees, "Bow," the soldier hisses at both of them.

Jin obeys almost immediately, but not Katara. Her firm gaze lands onto the three lone figures seated behind the wall of fire. Their faces obscured from her view. But she knows who they are. Who didn't know of Ozai and his ruthless children, Zuko and Azula?

"I said bow, wench," the soldier hisses as his boot kicks her forward. She lets out a small huff as the air is kicked from her lungs and she slowly pulls her body up into a bowing position. Her forehead presses into the cold marble floor beneath her as she tries to regain her breath. Slowly she turns her head to look at Jin, Katara can visibly see small droplets of sweat beading across her brow and small tears escaping her eyes. She will not show them her fear, she will deprive them of such a sight.

"The prisoners you requested, my lord," one of the soldiers state and Katara can hear murmurings full the room.

Distinct and firm steps echo about the room, commanding silence as the near the bowing women. Pristine boots come into her line of sight and Katara wonders which of the three descended from their perch atop the seated thrones.

She hears the soldiers grunt in confirmation and suddenly they are both hauled to their feet. Hands force her arms to her side before arms encircle her around the waist. Trapping her effectively.

"Let's have a look," she hears a smooth, velvety, baritone voice say. Hair falls into her face so her sight is obscured but she can hear Jin whimpering next to her.

"Please—" she hears Jin yelp next to her and Katara's heart begins to race as a resounding smack bounces off the walls.

"You will speak when spoken to," the man declares, his voice is cold and tempered and it sending a chill down her spine, "is that understood?"

Silence follows. Katara hears a shuffle of cloth and Jin crying out again, "I SAID IS THAT UNDERSTOOD, YOU PEASANT FILTH?" He roared at her like an enraged dragon spitting flames and she could hear Jin's cries.

"I understand," she whimpers, "I understand!"

Katara hears him step towards her and she cannot help how shaken her breath has become. Swiftly hair is parted from her face as a hand grips her mandible tightly. She clenches her eyes shut, not wishing to the face of this monster.

"Is this the one?" he asks, pulling her face forward.

"Yes, your majesty. This is the waterbender who aided in the prisoners escape from Commander Zhao's vessel."

"Remarkable," she can feel his breath on her face, "quite beautiful for Water Tribe filth," he comments and Katara's eyes snap open at that, "ah, there you are," his breath tickles her cheek.

She forces herself to hold back a gasp at the sight before her. Turmeric gold stare at her through narrowed slits. Long, luxurious silt black hair frames a perfectly chiseled, porcelain face. There are some signs of aging, but not too much that wouldn't make this man undeniably breathtaking. She knew from the crown perched in his topknot that this man whose hands are on her, is none of than Fire Lord Ozai.

"What is your name?" he inquires.

Katara mentally shakes herself from the daze and her eyes narrow at him dangerously. She will not be as pliant as others before her. With all the energy she can muster, Katara spits in the Fire Lord's face. A triumphant smirk twitches a the corner of her mouth, but she remains impassive.

Ozai steps back, grunting in disgust. His hand swipes at his tainted skin, ridding it of her saliva and before Katara can blink, he backhands her with a resounding smack. Pain blossoms across her cheek as her head snaps to the left and soon she feels his fingers digging into her jaw once more.

Pulling her dangerously close, "Your name?" he demands through clenched teeth.

But she will not yield. She will die before she bows to this wretched man. Narrowing her eyes defiantly, she tries to jerk her head from his grasp, but it is useless. His gaze burns into her soul and soon she hears a click of his tongue. Quickly he releases her and is taking a step back.

"No matter. Take her to Lady Min. She wreaks of carcass and peasantry," he waves them off, but not before motioning to another soldier nearby.

Ozai whispers in his ear all while maintaining eye contact with Katara. She watches the soldier nod a few times before backing away, bowing to the Fire Lord and exiting the room.

Suddenly he is on her, his hand cupping the back of her head and tangling into her matted locks. His lips smash against hers in a searing and brutal kiss. This was him displaying his dominance, his power. Katara whimpers against him as he pulls her from the guards embrace, his other hand encircling her waist. With a forceful tug he pulls her into his body and Katara brings her hands up just in time to push against his chest. She does not want this!

As swiftly as he came, his touch and warmth are gone. She feels his thumb trail under her bottom lip, their gaze meeting. He swipes at the saliva gathering there before bringing his thumb to his lips, sucking at the digit momentarily. Katara is disgusted by the display and begins to back away from him, only to bump into the guard behind her.

It was Ozai's dark chuckle that sent chills down her spine. He steps towards her, lips brushing up against her ear and she tries to thrash in the soldier's embrace.

"I look forward to seeing you again," Ozai pulls away from her and signals for the guards to take them away.

As she struggles in their arms, Katara catches sight of the Prince just beyond the wall. The look in his eyes was something akin to pity. She curses him and his pity. If it is the last thing Katara will do, it'll be to gouge out those cursed golden orbs from his skull and feed them to the sealturtles.

"DAMN YOU ALL TO THE DEPTHS OF NARAKA!" she screams as she is hauled past the doors and out of the royals' sight. 

***~*~***

Azula scuffs at the waterbender's behavior, "Defiant little thing, isn't she father?"

"She certainly has a fire within her," Zuko mutters softly, more to himself than anyone else.

"A fire I desire to extinguish," Ozai smirks as he gaze lingers where the waterbender once stood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara soon learns what her role is to be within the palace walls. She is introduced to the Madam Min and has a run in with Prince Zuko and his Uncle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you guys. As I stated previously, this is going to be taking on a more adult theme and will be darker than my previous work. You have been warned. Enjoy the chapter!

Pale fingers twist in her hair as she is circled by the Lady of the Harem. She clicks her tongue as her eyes narrow in on every meticulous detail that makes up Katara's haphazard appearance. Dirt and grime are suffocating her nail bed. A mixture of dried body fluids stain her tattered tunic. She looks as if she was run over by the cabbage merchant's cart and then wallowed around in the ostrich horse stables. She looks like utter hell, there is no other way to say it.

After circling her repeatedly, the Madam comes to stand before Katara. Though her eyes hold familiar characteristics of a citizen of the Fire Nation, they are somewhat pale and glossed over. They do not hold a flame in comparison to the Fire Lord's Katara thinks. She shudders, knowing that his predator like gaze will haunt her dreams for weeks to come.

"What am I to do with you?"

Katara holds her gaze, her face as stoic as she can make it, but a single brow strays and arches slightly, catching the Madam's observant eye.

"You've given me quite a challenge girl," she tuts softly, approaching Katara, "your hair…I've seen dragon nests in better condition," her fingers flick a rogue strand from Katara's face, "the whole of the Si Wong desert has more hydration than your skin," she brushes her delicate fingers against Katara's cheek, causing her to scowl, "and don't get me started on your—"her eyes trail down Katara's curvy figure, inhaling deeply, "body."

Katara cannot help the scowl that rushes over her features, "But, I suppose men are looking for far more vivacious and exotic women these days," her pale hand curls beneath her chin and the other arm crosses over her chest, "no matter. By the time I'm finished, the Fire Lord won't dare bat an eye in any other concubine's direction."

At the Madam's words, Katara's heart races, "I'd prefer if he looked elsewhere," she states defiantly.

At this, the Madam's eyes narrow, she tucks a strand of ebony hair behind her ear, "What you prefer is of no consequence to me," she flicks her gaze to the doorway off to Katara's left, where a lady servant stands.

The woman bows softly before disappearing from Katara's peripheral view, the Madam circles around to sit at a large mahogany desk. Scrolls litter it's surface, several candles decorate the top corners, the wax having melted to the table. She sits there for a moment, grasping a pen from it's inkwell and begins to scribble something down hurriedly. It is at this time that Katara observes her more carefully. She notes that the Madam is far older than she initially thought. Cracks form beneath her pale makeup, running along her forehead, catcrows feet deepen in the corners of her eyes and long crevices form around her mouth. How many times did this woman wear a mask of bliss? Did the happiness and joy reach her eyes as the wrinkles formed on her face? Or was it all a guise to hide her anger? Fear perhaps? Her hands look withered, worn down from years of use. She continues to watch carefully as the woman begins to cough violently. The Madam's hand searches for something in her kimono dress. Quickly she pulls a small handkerchief from her breast and coughs into the fabric. Katara is quick to see small crimson droplets contrast against the pale white fabric and her brows scrunch together. This woman is dying, yet her facade up until this point was impeccable.

By this time, the maidservant has returned, carrying a tray with a crimson and gold porcelain tea set. The wares jangle and clank together as she moves swiftly to the table and begins pouring tea for both women.

She hands a steaming cup to the Madam, bowing lowly as she does so and then proceeds to hand one to Katara. Her hands wrap possessively around the cup, grip tightening as the maidservant bows to her as well. Her eyes must hold the question and the Madam is quick to answer.

"You are not in some lowly bordello," she waves the maidservant off, "you are to be a royal lady, a concubine to his Majesty. That alone earns you a desirable amount of respect," she brings the tea to her lips, drinking silently.

Katara huffs, "I did not know whores had respect left for themselves, let alone any so freely given to them from others."

The Madam's eyes narrow dramatically, "I do not blame you for your barbaric view," her eyes flutter down to Katara's attire once more, "but unlike where you come from, to be a concubine, is one of the most honorable positions a woman can attain in the Fire Nation court."

"Your ideology is as skewed as is your understanding of the term barbaric," Katara bites back, jaw locking.

The Madam sighs, placing her teacup down, "Whatever my ideology is, you will have to bare the burden that comes along with being a lady of this harem."

Katara's brows scrunch together, "Why is that?"

"If you ever wish to survive this place," the Madam's tone is softer than normal, she pours herself another cup of tea, "you must adhere to the rules, while always being three steps ahead."

Her cryptic message is just that. Cryptic. For the first time since receiving her tea, Katara glances down at the cup that she rotates in her hands. She notices that there is an ornate white lotus painted stark against the crimson red face of the cup. A thin gold trimming accentuating it's beauty. Funny thing the white lotus.

"I see you favor the white lotus. Not many still cling to such ancient symbolisms these days," Katara states, watching the Madam's features carefully.

She inclines her head slightly, eyes widen only a fraction, "There are few of us who do, but we somehow always find a friend amongst this that do," she give's Katara a small, almost unnoticeable nod.

She chews on the inside of her lip for a moment. The Order has always been discreet. No one would blatantly admit to being with such a society. That would mean death. Her chest rises and falls as she mulls over the Madam's answer. Only a member would have answered her that way.

She straightens, her shoulders squaring, determination setting in her eyes, "What must I do?"

The Madam sighs at this, rising and coming out from behind her table, tea in hand, "We must transform you. In what takes years, we must do in weeks. Should the Fire Lord's patience last that long."

The Madam leans against her desk, sipping her tea delicately once more. There is an unsettling grace about her that unnerves Katara, but she pushes that to the back of her mind for now.

Slowly she nods, eyes drifting to her own tea before she begins to chug it down with vigor.

The Madam eyes her with slight scrutiny, "Water is always in such a hurry," Katara glances up, fingers covering her mouth, "perhaps it is just as well. You have much to learn and no time to lose."

Katara finishes her tea before returning the cup to its tray, "When do we start?"

The Madam simply frowns, rising up and coiling her finger for Katara to follow her.

Katara knows that while she is on the herbs, fighting her way out of the Fire Nation will be difficult. She is no fool. Though her situation is not ideal, it provides her with a rare opportunity. An enemy in the sanctity of the Fire Nation palace. The place where the Fire Lord's war meetings are held. Perhaps, she may be able to obtain information that she can provide to the rebellion.

"First we must have you bathed and then examined by Doctor Li," the Madam's voice breaks her train of thought.

"Examined?"

The Madam turns to her abruptly mid step, "The Fire Lord will want to make sure you are pure—"

Katara rolls her eyes, "I'll save you the trouble," she sighs, arms crossing over her chest, "I lost my virginity when I was 17."

"That very well may be," the Madam turns and continues moving further down the hall with Katara hot in her heels, "but you'll still need to be examined for other undesirable markings or diseases."

They come to a set of doors decorated with elaborate illustrations of women bathing. Scenes of women lathering their bodies in expensive oils. There are vials of perfumes to make them smell luxurious and Katara is stunned at the intricacy in the murals on the doors.

The Madam snaps her fingers and suddenly two maidservants appear from beyond the doors. They bow simultaneously to both the Madam and Katara before stepping out of the way and allowing them entrance.

"They will bathe you," she commands and the two maidservants flank her on either side, "once that is finished, I'll call for Doctor Li," she nods at the two women before giving Katara a curt nod.

Their hands are on her as the Madam turns to leave and Katara, much like her element goes with the current of the situation. They begin to strip her of her clothes and soon her sarashi wrappings. Their hands are gentle, their eyes seem to hold no emotion nor judgement. Slowly they lower her into a small pool carved into the marble flooring and Katara cannot help the soft moan that escapes her. The water is so warm that she could fall asleep in its embrace. Her bliss is broken when the two women climb into the small pool with her and are just as naked as she is. Briefly she is slightly taken aback but understands how odd it would be for them to climb into the pool with their clothes on. She sighs when she feels wet rags scrubbing at the grime on her skin. With ease, she leans her head back against the rim of the pool, turning to putty under the maidservants ministrations.

As she tries to not nod off, her eyes scan the bathhouse and she is overwhelmed by its beauty. There are several pools carved into the twisted marble flooring. One large pool, flanked by two smaller pools on either of its elongated sides and then a slightly larger, yet small pool at its head. Long alabaster columns lined the length of the bath hall. Full length arched windows nestled into the walls, bringing in the light from outside. The only thing obscuring the view from onlookers were dark red silk drapes dangling from the ceiling. White and red silk sheets draped between the columns and along the ceiling to give a certain ambiance to the bathhouse. It truly had an almost whimsical and luxurious feeling to it. Around the pools were various ornately designed rugs with pillows and small blankets littering them. It seems like a pleasant place to come and relax.

Her jaw locks involuntarily as they begin to scrub her skin almost raw. The doors to the bathhouse open with haste and servants enter carrying large trays full of fruits and other assorted foods. Her stomach growls at the sight and she thinks to herself that she will grab some on her way out of the bathhouse.

For the rest of her time in the baths, the women scrub at the callouses on her feet and hands. Small whale bone combs run through her matted, tangled hair and it takes everything in her to refrain from trying to push the women underwater and drown them with her bare hands. As they hoist her from the pool, her skin has almost begun to prune. Quietly they pour lavender on their hands and massage the oil into every inch of skin her body has to offer. Her hair is dabbed with the scent of jasmine and they pin it up into a loose bun. Afterwards they drape her body in a white silk robe and secure the sash around her waist. She cannot help but bow to them.

"Thank you," she states and both women are so stunned by this, that they still while in the midst of dressing themselves.

They bow confusedly at her, pulling at their tunics and wrapping the fabric around themselves, "Of course, my lady."

"Please," she smiles softly, "Katara will do," and she watches as they look at one another with confusion and concern before nodding in her direction once more.

Katara heads over to one of the seating areas and begins to pluck at the dragon fruit assembled on one of the trays that had been brought in. She sees a teapot and pours herself some of the tea and she sighs in satisfaction. She does not know how long she feasts for, but is interrupted by the Madam's voice.

"Doctor Li is waiting," she rises and follows her out.

As she makes her way from the bathhouse she hears soft whispers and giggles ring down the hall. She glances over her shoulders to see scantly clad women rushing to the baths. Those must be the concubines of the harem she thinks.

"Keep your head bowed, hands clasped in front of you as we make our way to the doctor's chambers," the Madam states before they pass through the harem's entrance.

Begrudgingly Katara does as instructed. She bows her head and clasps her hands before her, acutely aware of her attire. The robe only covers so much of her frame. It falls just above the knees and now in the broad daylight shining into the open palace halls, it is far too sheer for her taste. Especially out in the open. She can hear a few grunts from passing soldiers and can feel the stares of the nobility. She can hear the Madam murmur greetings here and there and can practically feel both the lust of men and disgust of women seeping into her bones. She curses the Madam for not allowing her proper attire to wear.

As they come to a split in the hall, something attracts the Madam's attention and she quickly turns to Katara.

"Wait here a moment," she instructs and Katara can only nod.

Keeping her head bowed, she can only see the shoes and legs of those who pass by. Her hands wring together as the number of people traveling the halls increases. Humiliation is sinking into the pit of her stomach as words begin to flutter about the hallway. As she looks at her own bare feet, she curls her toes inward up under her feet, a sign of anxiety and unease. Katara's teeth nip at her inner cheek and she begins to bite so hard she can taste the metallic iron of blood on her tongue.

 _Get it together Katara_ she lectures herself mentally.

As she continues to wait, she can hear the loud shouts and yells coming from somewhere ahead of her. The roaring inferno of flames also catches her attention. After fighting against fire for so long, she was able to recognize the distinct sound the element made, even in her sleep. Curiosity getting the best of her and her desire to no longer be an eyesore for anyone, she lifts her gaze and follows the sounds of the struggle.

The open hall leads to a large training ground. Sand coats the floor. There are crimson pools littered about the training ground and Katara can only assume it is blood. There is a bench along the far side of the grounds, where Katara sees several men resting upon. A weapons rack is assembled against the wall. There are several training dummies attached to posts in various areas of the grounds but one. In the center there is a large open space, a place for one on one combat exercises, both bending and non-bending she guesses. As her gaze moves around, surveying the grounds it falls on two fire benders sparring. Both are shirtless and sweat sticks to their bodies, a sheen glistening around rippling muscles. One has their hair tied up in a perfect topknot, while the other lets his hair fall loosely around his face. It is rather short, but she finds it framing his facial structure perfectly.

She notes that both men are wearing black sparing pants, gold trimming their waist and ankles in comparison to the normal red and gold she sees on most soldiers. She can only assume they are members of the elite. She dares to think that the royals would ever find themselves out here amongst their soldiers and nobles let alone spar with them.

As she watches on, the fight gets more complex and aggressive.

"Break his root Lieutenant!" someone yells from the bench.

"Remember your basics Prince Zuko!" an elder man, one who she hadn't noticed before was standing on the sidelines, shouts. He was garbed in the clothing that distinguished him from others. Her eyes narrow in on his face, trying to see if she could recognize him.

A soldier laughs, "What is it with you and the basics, General Iroh?"

The man chuckled, "One cannot hope to become a skilled bender if they forget the basics of the art form," his eyes focus in on the duel.

General Iroh. Dragon of the West. The man who broke through the walls of Ba Sing Se and killer of the last of the dragons. Katara has heard stories of him and of his might. Many spoke of his failure at Ba Sing Se, when he retreated after news of his son's death. She heard he faced ridicule from his nation. His own father denounced him as his heir and handed the responsibility over to his youngest son, Ozai. In the past Katara couldn't help but wonder what the world would have been like, had the general ruled instead of his brother. Would he have been just as cruel or would he have been a merciful foe? Stories of his mercy had traveled through the rebellion over the years. He was a soldier and a diplomat. He had once told the Kings of the Earth Kingdom that unnecessary bloodshed weighed heavily on his soul and that he had not wanted to add more to the scales against him. He had left villages unharmed and any soldier who had stepped a toe out of line and retaliated against innocent civilians were punished severely. He had seemed kind and understanding of humanity from the stories she heard and Katara finds herself wanting to know just how true those stories were.

Suddenly a loud cry echos in throughout the grounds and Katara turns to see the man with the perfect topknot on the ground, eyes glaring at the man above him. A smile breaks across his face as his opponent reaches out, offering him a hand.

Katara scuffs, "Well done Prince Zuko!" the General exclaims as he hands a towel over to the young man whose hair was a sweaty mess dangling around his face. Katara's eyes widen, that is the prince?

"Thank you Uncle," his voice is husky and low, but she senses respect and love in his tone, "you taught me well," he begins to run the towel against his sweat soaked chest.

Slowly he turns, nodding at the other man who she can only assume was Lieutenant Lee before he turns and begins walking in her direction. His uncle is quick to his side and they share a small conversation about the spar. She can hear the general giving advice, stating there is still room for improvement and the Prince chuckles.

"Of course Uncle. There is always room for improvement," he states, amused.

The General nods, "I am glad you are receptive to my instruction and advice, Prince Zuko," he too chuckles, "there was a time where that was not always so."

The Prince looks stoic for a moment, his movements stilling, "I was in a dark place then Uncle," he bows respectfully and Katara finds herself intrigued, leaning forward as if to hear more, "thank you for staying by my side."

The General has an adoring look in his eye, "I will never leave you my boy," he pats the Prince's shoulder before guiding him forward once more.

As they approach, Katara finds herself stilled by the beauty of him. The closer he gets, the more details her eyes can see. His porcelain skin stretches taunt over rugged and defined muscles. There are scars decorating his chest and abdominal area and Katara wonders if they were all from sparring. His black silk pants ride low against his hips, displaying a prominent V shape of his lower abdominals and Katara's eyes dare travel lower. She feels her body react to the way he looks and she chides herself. He had pitied her the first time he saw her and she has to remind herself of that. She hates him. His physical appearance will not take away the fact that he is nothing more than a monster, just like his father. But as she watches him, she cannot help a pang of something settling in her chest. She cannot place it, but she knows that she does not enjoy it whatsoever. They move closer to her hidden spot as she continues to observe him. His towel is ruffling through his hair quickly, ridding the sweat and moisture from it and before she can move out of sight, he looks up and catches notice of her.

His brow arches and she curses herself, eyes never looking away from his.

"My lady," he bows and Katara bolts backwards, hands covering her chest almost immediately.

His gaze is piercing and fierce, but somehow different from his father's. She watches as he takes in what she is wearing and he dares not let his eyes wander lower than her waist. For this, she is thankful. She notices a hint of pink dusting his cheekbones and she wonders if he is embarrassed.

He clears his throat, eyes trailing back to her face, "Is there something the lady requires?"

The General at his side has an amused twinkle in his eyes and Katara shakes her head, backing away from the pair slowly.

"I got separated from the Madam a short time ago—"

"A beautiful young woman, such as yourself, should not be wandering the halls alone," the General spoke gently, cutting her off as his eyes shift to Prince Zuko, "wouldn't you agree, Prince Zuko?"

The Prince pales for a moment, sneaking a glance at his uncle before looking back at Katara, "Yes, I—yes."

A smile tries to form on Katara's lips, his demeanor seems innocent enough, but she scolds herself quickly. Reminding her of who they truly are.

"Do you perhaps know where I might find Doctor Li's quarters?" she asks, bowing her head a fraction.

The General elbows the Prince slightly and Zuko steps forward, "I-yes, I'd be honored to show you to her quarters."

Katara nods and watches as the Prince slings the towel over his shoulder, hiding part of his exposed chest, "Uncle, I'll join you for tea once I escort—" his voice trials off as he looks at her searchingly, almost as if asking her what her name is.

"Kata—" she begins.

"There you are!" a shrill voice startles the three of them and Katara whirls around to see the Madam approaching her with purposeful strides.

"I told you to stay pu—" her eyes widen a fraction as she takes in who Katara is speaking with and she quickly bows to both, "forgive me Prince Zuko, General Iroh," she straightens herself, "she has not yet learned the dynamics of our court nor the decorum in which she should behave."

"It is quite alright, Lady Min," Prince Zuko gives her a slight bow of his head, eyes shifting back to Katara, with a look in his eyes.

The Madam smiles, arm encircling Katara's shoulders as she pulls her close, "If you'll excuse us," she and Katara bow, "Doctor Li is waiting."

Both Prince Zuko and General Iroh nod, watching as Katara and Madam Min exit the training grounds. Katara is not certain as to what words are shared between them, but whatever it was that the General said to the Prince, it had him in a coughing fit.

Once they turn the corner and are no longer in sight of the royals, the Madam grips her arm and pulls her into a darkened corridor.

"When I say, stay put, I mean, stay put," she seethed.

Katara's eyes widened slightly as she tries to jerk her arm out of her grasp, "This is not the place to simply do as you wish Katara," the Madam's voice caused her to jerk her head upwards.

"How do you know my name?" Katara demands, forgetting the pain seeping into her flesh.

"Let's go," the Madam pulls her away from the corridor, but this time, Katara struggled.

"No!" she jerks the Madam back into the corridor, effectively pinning her against the alabaster wall, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me how you know my name," she seethes, pressing her forearm into the Madam's throat.

The Madam's eyes narrow, "For one so astute, you aren't that smart, are you?"

Katara's breath quickens, "Wha—"

The Madam wraps her hand around Katara's forearm and forces her off of her, "I've been getting intel on you since your disappearance from the outpost in Gaoling," she adjusts her robes and runs her fingers across her hair.

"Wha—"

In an instant the Madam is on her, pinning her to the adjacent wall, "When an invaluable asset to the cause disappears, word travels rather quickly."

"Asset?" Katara demands.

The Madam sighs pulling away from her, "You are an invaluable key to winning this war, Katara. Someone as high profile as you—" she pauses, "is easily recognizable."

Katara blinks rapidly, hands gripping the fabric of her robe. She doesn't know what to say, so she looks down at her feet.

"Now, if you are to maintain a cover while here, I suggest you do as I tell you and come with me to Doctor Li's quarters," she states firmly at Katara.

Katara meets her gaze, argument on her tongue but she bites it before she can make a remark. She only nods and follows the Madam in silence.

They arrive at the doctor's quarters and Katara is instructed to lay on the examination table. Doctor Li is silent as she parts Katara's robes and begins to poke and prod at her flesh. The doctor checks her eyes, teeth and mouth. Her hands massage along her neck, down her shoulders and invasively over her breasts, checking for any abnormalities. Soon those cool, meticulous hands travel down her naval and to the most intimate parts of her. She feels the folds of her sex separate and she jolts at the intrusion. Clenching around the doctor's fingers involuntarily. She snaps her eyes shut and turns her head away as the doctor's fingers pull away from her body.

"How long since your last bleeding?" Doctor Li asks.

Katara swallows tightly, "Almost three weeks ago."

The doctor nods, "The last time you partook in intercourse?"

Her eyes snap to the Madam's and then back to the doctor's before sighing deeply, "Four years ago."

Both Doctor Li and the Madam shared a look before giving Katara a confused look.

"What?"

Doctor Li starts to wash her hands in a basin, "It's just unusual for someone from—"

"Someone from what? From the Water Tribes to practice celibacy?" she snaps, sitting up and wrapping her robe tightly around her body.

Doctor Li adjusted the glasses resting atop her high bridged nose, not at all phased by her remark, "I was going to say from your age group to not be practicing in a healthy amount of sex."

Her eyes shift as the doctor dries her hands, scolding herself for that temper of hers.

"One doesn't find much time to roll around in the sheets when you're on the front lines of a war," she whispers out harshly.

Doctor Li nods, "I suppose that is an understandable circumstance," she hands over a scroll to Madam Min, "she's clean. No rashes or signs of sexual disease or trauma. She's every bit the virgin, minus the hymen being pierced."

Madam Min nods her head, "Thank you for your time Doctor Li, Katara, come," she instructs as she begins to leave the doctor's chambers.

Katara follows her without argument as her mind wanders elsewhere. Back to a time where she was young and free to chose what her destiny would hold. Images of a tall, tanned boy flashes in her mind. Wild brown hair and a singular piece of straw dangling from his mouth. Eyes holding a fierceness she never knew possible for someone his age. He had loved her, in his own way. Told her pretty little things, caressed her, and eased her into a place of comfort. He seduced her in a subtle way. Snuck his way into her mind, heart and eventually her soul. He took her on the floor of his tree house and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. He was far from gentle, but he never forced himself on her. She wanted it. She wanted her virginity taken by someone of her choosing and not by some Fire Nation soldier. What they did, it wasn't love making, to her it was a form of survival for her. It was something she could never forget.

A small smile dances across her lips as she remembers Jet and for the first time since knowing him, she thanks him for doing one good thing for her. Unbeknownst to him, he had something the Fire Lord never would. Being able to say he ravaged her while successfully tearing the virginity from her body, turning her into a woman.

Unbeknownst to her, standing in the shadow of one of the corridors, a heated stare trails down Katara's backside as she follows Madam Min back to the Harem.

"Soon, my little water lily."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension begins to grow and Katara is starting to see more and more of Prince Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and please leave a comment! I love reading them and of course, responding to them!

After the visit with Doctor Li, the Madam escorts Katara to her personal chambers within the harem. It wasn't too large and yet it certainly wasn't small. It was nestled in the north eastern part of the harem. Sheer red silk drapes separated it from the rest of the harem. Much like the other concubines private dwellings. The inside was breathtaking, but in the most simplistic kind of way. There were long arched windows that lined the eastern side of the room. No doubt for the occupant to welcome the sunrise. Nestled into the western wall was a bed, carved into the wall itself. It was rather large and Katara finds herself running her fingers along the luxurious sheets, all the while applying slight pressure to test the bed's level of comfort. Once again there are long sheer silk drapes drawn back on either side of the bed and Katara muses over how little they do to provide any sort of privacy.

In the middle of her chamber is a low seated table with pillows scattered about it. On the table are ink wells, script brushes, unused scroll parchment and an odd looking instrument. Her brow quirks slightly as she looks to the wall adjacent to the table to see two dragons entwined in a erotic pose. An azure dragon writhing beneath a crimson dragon, it's body caged as the crimson beast nuzzled it's nose into the jaw of the pinned creature.

As Katara surveys her room, she hears soft whispers coming from the other side of her silk drape partition.

"Katara?" A familiar voice calls to her and Katara pulls back the silk from her entryway to see Jin standing on the other side.

"Jin!" she yells out joyously, tugging the girl's wrist and bringing her into a tight embrace.

Jin chuckles softly, "Miss me that much?"

Katara pulls away, a smile reaching her lips, "More than I care to admit," she brushes a few strands of hair from Jin's face, before pulling Jin into her small chamber.

***~*~***

"The Madam took you personally?" Jin asks incredulously.

Katara nods, as she leans into the palm of her hand, arm resting on her small table.

"Song said that the Madam doesn't generally take any interest in the harem girls. All the girls were surprised when she escorted you to see the doctor," her tone was more questioning than anything else.

Katara shrugs, "I suppose it could have something to do with the dock incident and then that little outburst in the throne room."

Jin chuckles, "Perhaps she thinks you are going to be a handful," she covers her mouth as she continues to laugh.

Nodding, Katara sits up a little straighter, "So, who is Song?"

"Apparently, she is Prince Zuko's favorite concubine. He spends more time with her than his own fiancé."

Katara shakes her head, "To be so disrespectful to your future wife…" she trails off with a sigh.

Images of his naked, sweaty torso and chiseled face come to the forefront of her mind and she finds it hard to deny his rugged handsomeness. One thing that stood out to her more than any other aspect of his appearance was a large, crimson scar across the upper left side of his face. It had to have been a wound from the war. Perhaps a rouge fire bender struck him in battle. She had heard how the Fire Lord sent the Crowned Prince into the Imperial Army to raise troops moral. But never once did anyone know what he looked like. He blended in with his troops, never once declaring his presence and always fell into the ranks as a normal foot soldier. But now that she knew his face, if she could somehow get information out, all would know to look for the man with the red scar covering his left eye and temple. She knew that the Prince continued to venture out into the world during the war on more than one occasion. They had crossed paths before unknowingly and she tries to pry through her memories to see if she could recall such a face. But no such memories have surfaced. Perhaps it was during his time as a soldier that he had picked up such distasteful acts with women.

"No doubt he visited brothels while serving in the Imperial Army," she scuffs softly.

Jin simply shrugs, "His fiancé is a noblewoman and apparently their marriage is an arrangement. Her family is supposedly wealthy beyond imagining."

For the briefest moment, Katara wanted to take back her words. An arranged marriage? How uncultured and barbaric. Much like the customs of her Northern Tribe before both tribes were united.

"Doesn't surprise me that the Fire Lord would force his son into an unwanted marriage."

Jin gives her a quizzical look, "I think it is something that all royalty partake in," she sighs herself, leaning back to lay spread amongst Katara's many floor pillows, "royalty have always been something of an enigma."

Katara watches her for a moment before leaning back amongst the floor pillows as well. Her thoughts mirror Jin's.

"I hear he is a gentle lover," Jin muses softly.

There is a softness to her tone, a whimsical thought and perhaps a silent prayer in the way she says it and Katara just stares at her from her position on the floor.

"The Fire Lord—" she cuts herself off with a sharp exhaled breath, "I hear he beats his women," she shifts to look at Katara, "I hope he doesn't favor me as one of his concubines."

There is fear in Jin's eyes and she can understand why. This whole ordeal is full of uncertainties and a part of her truly hopes that the Fire Lord will overlook her, but her gut churns. She has a sense of dread and if what she experienced in the throne room was any indication, Katara believes that Ozai has his eyes set on her.

There is a knock just outside her chamber and both Katara and Jin sit up quickly. A maid servant parts the silk curtains and bows to both of them.

"The madam requests your presence, both of you."

Both follow the maidservant quietly to the harem's main lounge area. There the madam waits along with a cluster of no less that thirty women. All ranging in age. Katara guesses that the eldest is near forty years of age, while the youngest looks to be barely eighteen.

"Still your tongues," the Madam orders sharply, "we have new arrivals to introduce."

The harem is filled with whispers and giggles. Eyes roaming around to take in any new, unrecognizable face. Katara can feel their eyes linger on her and she tries her best to keep her gaze set firmly on the Madam.

"If you newly arrived ladies will come forth," the Madam gestures to the empty space next to her, "I shall introduce you."

A few girls rush to the front of the harem. All at least Katara's age or slightly older. Most looked to have come from the Fire Nation or the Earth Kingdom. Katara eyed the harem as she stood before the other ladies and felt disheartened yet thankful that she was the only Water Tribe female amongst them. Silently she prays that she will be the one and only of her people to suffer the indignity of this place.

The Madam began to list them off, like a farmer would livestock, "Lady Kiara of the Fire Nation," the young woman bows a traditional Fire Nation now, followed by the next introduced, "Lady Mika of the Fire Nation."

Whispers echo as the women take in their Fire Nation counter parts. Both are of striking beauty. Sharp features yet soft and kind golden eyes. Rivals no doubt for the current women of the harem.

The Madam clears her throat, "Lady Aurora of Ba Sing Se," the young woman kneels to the floor and a kowtow position and bows her head respectfully to the floor. The other Earth Kingdom nationals follow her example as they too are listed off my the Madam.

"Lady Jin of Ba Sing Se and Lady Ma Lyn of Omashu," she finishes and Katara can't help but pity them. They were prisoners here just as she was. The three women were as different as the cities they hailed from. Each strikingly beautiful in their own way. Jin was a simple and natural beauty with a toughness to her that Katara admires. Ma Lyn and Aurora were delicate and pale, with brilliant emerald eyes, sporting full flushed cheeks. Yet one thing was certain, each of these women from the Earth Kingdom had a defiance in their eyes that Katara knew ran as deep as the tunnels beneath Omashu.

Her focus shifts when the Madam calls her name, "Lady Katara of the Joint Water Tribes."

Katara bows her head politely to the ladies of the harem. Before the gossip can start, the Madam silences everyone with her firm gaze.

"As new arrivals you shall undergo extensive training," she calls forth a maid servant with tea, "women of the Royal Harem are to be well versed in the ways of poetry, music and dance. You are to perfect the art of conversation and above all, you must be masters in the erotic craft."

Some of the women blush and giggle, yet none of the new arrivals dare move, "You will do well to cast out any ill ideology of the women of the Royal Harem. You are not courtesans nor are you wives. You are enlightened women who provide artistry and pleasure to those of the royal household and esteemed nobility. Is that understood?"

All six women now to the Madam, "Yes, my lady."

The Madam waves her hand, dismissing the women of the harem but instructs Katara and the other new arrivals to follow her. They follow her in silence through the palace and Katara dares not raise her head to meet any onlooking gazes. Soon they come to an elaborate chamber with silks hanging from rafters, tapestries painted with elegant women and silk fabrics of every know color littering tables and counter spaces all along the room. There are small platforms placed throughout the chamber. Each accompanied by a small stool and Katara wonders where they are. She sees shears, red chalked string and cushions with needles. There is a wall decorated with spools of threads in varying colors and she begins to piece together where they are. Long, opened arched windows line the wall opposite of the entrance and Katara can hear what sounds like laughter of children. She can hear the turtle ducks quacking and can even smell the fresh water. She assumes that beyond the windows is a common garden for nobility and their families.

"Today you will be measured by the Royal Tailor," the Madam's voice jerks Katara's attention to her, "be sure to show your respect."

While she speaks, the Madam's gaze wonders around the room searching for the tailor, but there is no one in sight.

"Perhaps he is not in…"the Madam trails off, walking past a large row of silks, "I told him I would be bringing the new arrivals over today," her tone holds slight agitation as she whirls around and starts to head for the exit.

"The Fire Lord had something that required Mushi's immediate attention," everyone turns to the deep, husky voice that startles them from behind.

Katara's breath hitches when she recognizes the man. This time he is adorned in sleek blood red body armor with gold edging and a crimson red collar wrapping around his neck. A golden flame sits at the center of the chest plate. Katara notes that the armor looks more casual or ceremonial and not something to be worn into battle. Beneath the armor, he is clad in a long crimson tunic that parts at the waist and pants that are tucked into knee high boots. An elaborate crimson two slit kilt wraps around his waist with a blood red accent center fabric piece. The kilts trim work is gold with small flames in the corners of all three strips of the kilt's front. A golden belt with the royal insignia wraps around his waist. Dark red greaves and bracers with gold tracing are strapped to his forearms and shins. All the while a small three pronged golden flamed crown sits atop his head, attached to his neatly formed topknot. The others next to her gasp softly and she isn't sure if it is out of surprise or horror. The two women from the Fire Nation recognize him immediately, along with the Madam and they all instantly bow to him.

"Prince Zuko," at the Madam's voice, Katara and the Earth Kingdom girls bow just as well, "forgive us, we did not know you were here."

The Prince waves his hand slightly as he steps closer to the Madam and her new ladies, "Please Madam Min, there is nothing to apologize for."

The Fire Nation girls giggle, trying to hide their blushing faces behind their hands and Katara watches as the Prince's gaze flickers to them. She waits to see a cocky amusement fill his eyes, but there seems to be only a dull gaze. His eyes begin to move across the row of girls and something changes once he makes eye contact with her. His gaze that seemed so dull and lifeless moments ago are now ablaze with recognition and something akin to curiosity.

Averting her gaze, Katara tries to look anywhere but at the Prince. When she does happen to look his direction he is still gazing at her.

"What brings you to the Royal Tailor's Prince Zuko?" the Madam asks, diverting his attention away from Katara.

"The securing strap under my chest plate has come loose…" he trails off, his eyes flickering to Katara briefly, "and you?"

The Madam chuckles softly, "I cannot have my ladies wandering the halls in nothing but silk robes."

This time the Prince laughs softly, "I'm sure not many would object."

"Prince Zuko!" the Madam laughs, her hand playfully smacking his forearm. There is a fondness in his eyes when he looks at her and Katara finds it strange. The air about them is comfortable, but not in the way one might think. Shaken by this small observation, Katara steps back and ends up bumping into one of the mannequin's causing it to topple over. The small commotion startles her and she ends up knocking a pair of shears off the table.

She hisses when she feels a sharp pain on her inner thigh and looks down to see blood staining her white silk robe.

"Katara! Are you alright?!" Jin asks as she rushes to her side.

"She's bleeding!" one of the other girls yell.

Katara cups the wound and begins to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but it is no use. How did the shears cut her so deep?

Before she has time to think, Prince Zuko is knelt before her, his face dangerously close to her most intimate of places and she tries to back away from him. Suddenly she feels a firm warmth on the back of her thigh and she registers that it is his hand. He pulls her leg towards his face and she tries to pull it from his grasp. But the resistance doesn't seem to bother him. She can feel the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh. The pressure is intense and she stifles a small moan when his hand travels further up her thigh. He is quick to action and rips the crown from his head, tossing it effectively to the Madam.

"I need to stop the bleeding," he's looking her dead in the eyes as he pulls the hair sash from his topknot. Loose ebony hair crowds his face as he places the sash between his teeth momentarily. Again he pulls her thigh closer to his person, hiking her leg up so her foot rests on his thigh. Unconsciously she stables herself against him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

Katara's heart is pounding. His hands on her thigh is stirring something in the pit of her stomach and she tries not to focus on how calloused and rough they are. She chastises herself for being so aware of how enticing his hands on her are and reminds herself that he is the enemy. Suddenly she feels her robe being hiked up and she glances down alarmingly to see the Prince wrapping his hair sash around her thigh, just above the wound. He lets the robe fall back down and places her foot on the floor.

"This temporary tourniquet should stop the bleeding, long enough for me to get you to Doctor Li," he stands abruptly, causing her to lose balance but luckily he catches her. One arm wrapping around her back and the other sweeping her legs up and coming to hook beneath her knees.

Katara lets out a startled yelp as she is forced to cling to him, her face tucking into his shoulder in sheer embarrassment.

"Prince Zuko, let me call one of the guards—" the Madam begins as he pushes through the doors of the Royal Tailor's office.

His pace is brisk and Katara can hear the gasps and whispers as the Prince storms through the halls with her in his arms. He doesn't seem to pay them any mind however and Katara thinks she feels his grip on her tighten. She can hear the hurried footsteps of the Madam and the other ladies trailing close behind, followed by their heavy breathing. Daring to look up, Katara studies the Prince for just a moment. She is able to study the scar more carefully at the proximity and more openly. The tissue seemed less angry around the outer parts. Whereas around the eye, the scar looked redder. More angry. She wonders briefly if she would have been able to heal such an injury, but then kicks herself mentally for ever thinking such a thing.

"We're almost there," he says softly as he looks at her briefly and Katara merely nods before tucking her head back against his plated shoulder.

After a few more moments they arrive at Doctor Li's chambers and the Prince lays her down on the examination table.

The Madam, along with the other ladies come rushing in behind him, "Prince Zuko, you really did not need to carry Lady Katara all the way—"

"It was no trouble Madam Min," Prince Zuko holds his hand up, effectively cutting her off, "I do not mind looking after her."

Both Katara and the Madam look flustered by his last comment, "I dare not inconvenience you further," Katara speaks, bowing her head the moment the Prince looks back at her, "your majesty."

Prince Zuko gives her a curious look, brow raised slightly and he looks like he is about to say something but is interrupted by Doctor Li's appearance.

"It isn't often I see the same patient twice in one day," Doctor Li says amusingly to Katara, "your majesty," she bows at the Prince.

"She has a deep cut on the inside of her thigh," the Prince states, pointing to the makeshift tourniquet, "I was able to stop the bleeding."

The doctor rushes to the examination table, examining Katara's leg, "Spirits! How did this happen?"

"Sewing shears," Katara states softly, her hand tracing over the sash tied around her thigh.

The doctor gives her and the Prince a look before gathering the tools needed to take care of the wound.

"Would you ladies mind waiting outside," the doctor asks as she starts to lay Katara down on her table.

The Madam and the other ladies bow as Prince Zuko looks at them expectedly. He follows them only to stop at the entrance and starts to close the doors.

"Your Majesty—" the Madam begins softly.

"I'll bring her to the tailor's once Doctor Li is finished," he states firmly before closing the doors.

Katara's breath hitches when she hears the Prince is still in the doctor's chambers. He circles the table and stands next to her head. Katara sees his hands folded in front of him and they are covered in her blood. She looks up to find him staring at her and she stares back momentarily.

"Your Majesty, will you apply pressure here?" Doctor Li points to the spot right below the tourniquet. He does as instructed but it isn't to the doctor's liking.

"More like this your majesty," she turns him around to where he is now facing Katara and places his right hand just below the sash. His thumb positioned on the top of her thigh as his fingers dig into the soft skin of her inner thigh.

"Be sure to apply more pressure," the doctor states and Katara can't help but look at him when he does. He looks to take a deep breath before giving her upper thigh a squeeze. His hand is just a few inches away from touching a part of her that only one man had come to know. His jaw clenches and she can see him visibly swallow hard. He seems just as uncomfortable about this whole ordeal as she does. His eyes are shifting about until they finally settle on hers and she sees them widen a fraction.

Another hand comes to clamp down on her thigh where the wound has settled and she knows it's the doctor's. She feels something cool swiping against the gash and she jerks momentarily.

"Hold her steady your majesty," Doctor Li instructs, "it's only going to get worse from here," and just as she says this, there is a wet sensation rolling across the flesh of her thigh, followed by a searing pain.

Katara jolts upwards, her legs jerking and she feels her body being forced back down by the Prince. His hand is on her shoulder, while the other remains secured tightly on her thigh. There is a frantic look in her eyes as she clamps her hand around his wrist, nails digging into his flesh as a needle penetrates hers. She cries out but forces her other hand to clamp down on her mouth. Katara's eyes roll into the back of her head as she feels the needle pushing through the other side of her wound. She can feel the thread sliding through her flesh and it causes her to thrash around.

"I know it hurts," the Prince's voice breaks through her pain, "but you have to try and hold still or you'll undo the doctor's work."

Katara's teeth dig into her lower lip but she nods her head despite the pain. A darkness begins to encroach in the corners of her vision and she can feel her body growing slack. If only she had her bending. She'd be able to seal the wound and avoid the pain and embarrassment that she is enduring right now. She can feel herself fading into unconsciousness but tries to fight it. Her body is fatigued due to the blood loss and her soul is weakened by being in the care of the enemy's very own Prince.

"Now Prince Zuko, I'm going to need you to cauterize the wound," Doctor Li's voice breathes life into her and she draws her head up to see the doctor cut the remaining thread.

The Prince jerks his head to the doctor, "Why? You just stitched her up."

The doctor stands, making her way to a water basin and begins to clean her hands, "The stitching was only to bring the flesh together. But with a wound like this, due to the artery being torn, the only thing that'll stop the bleeding indefinitely is cauterizing it."

The Prince looks to Katara, his eyes searching hers questioningly. Tears prick at her eyes and she subconsciously squeezes the Prince's wrist before slowly nodding her head.

"Do it," her voice quivers, "be done with it."

She doesn't address him as Prince. If he is bothered by it, he doesn't seem to show it. But the doctor however, she corrects it for Katara.

"Forgive her your majesty. She is delirious from blood loss and doesn't know how to mind her tongue in her current state," the doctor gives her ankle a squeeze but Katara ignores it.

Zuko pulls back his hand from Katara's shoulder, the other still firm on her thigh, "You're sure this is the best option?"

Doctor Li nods, "Yes. Where the wound is located, should the stitching rip, she could bleed out in minutes."

Zuko nods, giving Katara one more look before pulling his other hand away from her thigh. Out of sheer horror, Katara reaches for his left hand, holding onto it desperately. His head snaps to her questioningly but when he sees the fear in her eyes, he twists his hand around a bit to hold her own.

"I'll make it quick," Zuko whispers softly as he ignites a flame at his fingertips. In a quick move he runs the flame along the stitched flesh and Katara cannot help the screams that escape her. Before she can comprehend anything else, Katara blacks out. The last thing she remembers is the Prince cupping her head and saying her name over and over as if it were a prayer on his lips.

"Katara!"

***~*~*  
**

Katara wakes feeling a dull ache in her thigh. Her breathing is shallow and she feels a cool, wet compress on her forehead. She reaches up, pulling the cloth from her flesh and slowly starts to sit upright. She looks around and notices that she was on her bed in her chambers. The last thing she remembers is the Prince burning her and quickly she parts her robe to look at her thigh. There is bandaging wrapped around her whole thigh and Katara finds herself running her fingers along it. The bandaging that covers her wound is wet and slimy. Katara pulls her fingers to her nose to see if she can determine what it is based on the smell.

"You're awake!"

Katara startles as the drapes to her bed part and Jin appears, "Oh you gave me a fright!" she yelled as she pulled Katara into a tight embrace.

Chuckling, Katara pulls herself from Jin's embrace, "I'm sorry Jin."

"Don't do it again!" She smacked the bed playfully and Katara nodded.

There were whispers coming from outside the room and Katara could here that most of the whispers were about her. Jin noticed as well and she patted Katara's knee.

"They are all just a little jealous of you," Jin states, "pay them no mind."

Katara's brow furrows quizzically, "Why are they jealous of me already?"

Jin smirks, "Who wouldn't be jealous of the woman that Prince Zuko carried to her bed?"

Katara's eyes widen, "He carried me here?"

Jin nods furiously, "Yes! Oh and Katara, he was such a gentleman!" Jin was blushing. Blushing!

Katara felt her face heating up at the thought of the Prince carrying her here unconscious. Her breathing picked up slightly as she pushed her hair from her face. She hated the idea of being indebted to him. She had to admit that his actions surprised her, but what surprised her more was her body reacting to his close proximity and the way his hands felt on her body. It was almost an intoxicating feeling and her loins warmed at the mere thought. Before she can curse herself for such horrid thoughts a knock gets her attention.

"Lady Katara?" Jin gasps and Katara is just as shocked when she hears the Prince's voice from outside her chamber.

Jin leaps off the bed and goes to the entry way to allow the Prince access.

"Your majesty," Jin bows quickly.

The Prince gives her a small smile before he looks to Katara's enclosed bed. He stood there for a moment, silent, before he gave Jin a curt nod. Jin seemed to understand what he was conveying and she bowed once more before quickly exiting Katara's chambers. Katara curses under her breath for being left alone with the Prince.

"How are you feeling?" he asks softly.

Katara swallows hard as she swings her legs slowly over the edge of the bed, curtains swaying with her movements. There is a sudden movement from the other side and she yelps when calloused hands grab her hips, stabilizing her as she tries to stand. She grips his shoulders and pulls herself up from her bed, bowing her head curtly.

"You shouldn't be moving too much," he whispers breathlessly in her ear, "you should be resting."

Katara's heart beats out of rhythm as she looks up to meet the Fire Prince's gaze. Her breath hitches as her body gets pulled into his and she can hear his breathing changed. Her grip tightens on him as they stare at one another in silence.

"How are you feeling?" his breath fans over her face.

Katara breathes a little heavier, "Sore, but not something I can't handle."

The Prince looks down at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. For a moment there, they are silent as they stare at one another and Katara thinks she imagines it when she sees his eyes shift to her lips and the then back up. She thinks she imagines it when her body feels like it is leaning in of its own accord. And Katara knows, beyond all reason that she imagines it when the Prince looked as if he were leaning in closer to her as well. Both seem to be in a trance.

"Prince Zuko?" and just like that, the sweet voice of a parakeet broke the spell and both Katara and Zuko separate as if they had been burnt from just touching one another.

The Prince clears his throat, "I'll be with you momentarily Song," he addresses the woman on the other side of the silk partition; all the while maintaining eye contact with Katara.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara is determined to capture Prince Zuko’s affection. Not only to protect herself from Ozai, but to use him for information to provide to the resistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I would like to say, is that when looking into the tv show's depiction of the Sun Warrior Culture, I felt a heavy pull towards Indian Culture. From the music to the temples and even some of the outfits. I know people see them as more tribal, but I felt more drawn to Hindu culture. So, in my story, since India is considered a part of South Asia, I will be using influences from their culture for the Sun Warrior's in this chapter and future chapters. It is a vibrant culture and I wish to explore more of it in this story line. I hope you enjoy. Also, please note that anything I post is not meant to be offensive in any way.
> 
> Now, there are two songs that you might want to have in queue in this order:
> 
> Deewani Mastani – English translation can be found online. I just can leave a link.
> 
> O Saki Saki – English translation can be found online. I just cant leave a link.
> 
> When you see [PLAY SONG: SONG NAME] load up the song as listed.
> 
> Also, because there really is no other way to describe the outfit that Song will be wearing other than by technical means, you can definitely watch the music video for Deewani Mastani to get a full picture of her outfit.
> 
> Same with Katara's. But her outfit was inspired by the music video 'O Saki Saki' and feel free to watch that to better understand her outfit.
> 
> Also! Please reference a extremely detailed map of the Four Nations that can be found on Mhairi's Pinterest Board labeled Avatar The Last Airbender, since I cannot link that as well.
> 
> Ok! Please enjoy! This is almost 17,000 words.

"Dancing is the hidden language of the soul," Madam Min states as she sips her tea.

Katara had been called to her office shortly after her encounter with the Prince and the esteemed Lady Song. Katara was quite stunned to see that the Prince had taken a liking to a small Earth Kingdom girl. Yet she could see the appeal. Her features were soft and plump with eyes that reminded Katara of coal ashes. Small painted lips forming a brilliant smile that reached her eyes and Katara knew why he had chosen her. Song was pleasant and radiating happiness, which was a far contrast to most of the other women in the harem. Most seemed jaded, disingenuous and cunning. Katara could see the hatred in their eyes when they took in her appearance. She is not unaware of how beautiful she is, but she wishes that they would not see her as a threat. Her intentions for remaining in such a place have nothing to do with which royal she can fit between her thighs. She would rather earn a man's love and affection on her feet, not off them.

"You unfortunately will not be allowed to participate in next week's performance for the royal household," again she sips her tea quietly.

Katara nods softly, "How unfortunate indeed," she sighs as her eyes remain glued to her tea cup. Her mind has been wandering since her encounter with the Prince. So she vaguely catches what the Madam says.

Madam Min clears her throat before standing from her desk, "Follow me."

Katara does so in silence. They pass through the winding corridors of the harem for what seems like minutes. Finally, after the lengthy walk accompanied by deafening silence, they come to a set of large golden doors. Women were carved into the plated gold, portrayed dancing and playing strange instruments. Katara could only assume that once she was fully recovered, this is where she would learn to dance. The doors opened after Madam Min gave three sharp knocks. Beyond the doors is a large room with vaulted ceilings, white alabaster flooring, lining columns and giant open windows. White and pink pastel silks hung from the ceiling and swayed with the gentle breeze that flits through the room. Across from the windows is a large wall length mirror so the dancers may observe and scrutinize their performances and each other.

Vibrant music and laughter fill the air. Currently there is a rehearsal taking place. Several twirling dancers form a large circle. Katara notices that at the center of the spinning dancers is Song. Her long brown curled tresses hang loose just below the waist and as she twirls about the inner circle, her hair flys around her in a hypnotic way. The clanking of anklets draws Katara's attention away from Song as the dancers gather behind her in a flurry of motion. They form a triangle behind her and suddenly they all, in perfect sync deliver three loud claps. They move out again all spinning around the room, following Song's direction of movement. She brings her hands up above her head and starts to move them in a billowy fashion and the dancers pulse around her. A small circle forms around her, followed by two more slightly larger circles of dancers and they all follow her hand movements before linking their hands together and arching their bodies backwards.

"A lotus…" Katara breathes softly, looking at the exquisite beauty and synchronicity of the dancers.

Madam Min hums softly, "A fire lily, to be exact. This is where you will practice after you're healed," she leads Katara from the practice room and Katara cannot help but sway to the sound of the music.

"Next is the Royal Library," the Madam curls her fingers instructing Katara to follow, "that is where you'll be spending most of your time," the Madam gives her a look over her shoulder, "for now."

Katara nods softly as her mind continues to play the images of the dance in her head, over and over again. She hates to admit it, but she is intrigued to see the whole performance. That is if she is allowed to attend.

"Am I allowed to attend the performance next week?" Katara asks softly.

Madam Min scuffs in indignation, "Allowed? My dear girl, you are required to be in attendance."

Katara looks at her mutely and the Madam merely sighs, "This way," she breathes and resumes her pace down the hall and out of the harem in silence.

Two guards stand post outside the library doors. Madam Min approaches them with Katara in tow and both men bow to her neatly.

"Madam Min," they straighten up, eyes lingering to Katara.

The Madam offers a curt nod in response, "Gentlemen," and Katara follows her example, "this is Lady Katara. One of our most recent acquisitions," their eyes divert back to the young water tribe woman, "she will be making daily trips to the library to brush up on required materials. See to it that she is not disturbed."

Both men bow immediately, "Yes Madam Min!" they say in unison.

The Madam offers them a genuine smile before she escorts Katara into the depths of the Royal Library.

Katara's eyes widen immensely as she takes in the dozens of rows of shelving, all containing scrolls that held the history and intel of the Fire Nation. Large wooden tables sit in open areas with scrolls scattered about and candles waiting to burn brilliantly for the nightly scholars. Small fruit baskets and canisters of water decorate the tables, while pillows and blankets litter the windowsills. Katara is amazed by how many scroll shelves there are and they reach to practically the ceiling! There are wooden ladders that seem to be attached to a track system along the ceiling and it appears to glide the ladders around the entire library. No doubt giving her access to any scroll she desires.

The Madam takes in her awestruck reaction and smiles minutely, "Take as much time as you need in here," she whispers softly, effectively catching Katara's attention, "remember, in here you have access to information the rest of the world does not. Use your time in the library wisely," she clears her throat, knowing that too much silence will make the guards attempt investigation.

"Be sure to study Fire Script. You must learn to read and write our written word," the Madam says with a clear and loud voice, straightening her posture as she paces about, "be sure to go over diverse selections of literature. Verse yourself in poetry and short tales Lady Katara and from there we shall see about expanding your knowledge."

Katara responds enthusiastically, "Yes Madam!"

This room right here is the entire reason she plans to stay and follow through with this charade. Even if every fiber in her being demands blood, she knows that it is not her place to kill the Fire Lord. She understands that it has to be Aang, but that doesn't take the temptation away. Perhaps she could take out his heirs…Katara notes that she's lost herself to her thoughts and gives the Madam an apologetic smile.

Madam Min eyes her warily but rewards her with a softening of the eyes and a brief frown. She pulls a scroll from the shelf nearest to them and hands it over to Katara.

"Since you'll be attending next week, you should study the story behind Song's performance."

Katara looks down at the rolled parchment, the scrolling fire script glaring at her, "This is the tale of one of our most revered ladies, the second wife of Chief Bajirao. Her name was Mastani."

"Mastani?" Katara inquired.

"She was the daughter of a chief from a small north eastern island. She was a child of fire and air. Her beauty was said to be unmatched. But what set her apart from other women of her social standing was her tenacity and ferocity. It is what attracted a man like Bajirao to her."

"Daughter of fire and air?"

The Madam nods, "Mixing of benders was somewhat taboo at that time in history. Many believed she would be the downfall of Bajirao."

Katara presses forward slightly, "Was she?"

The Madam chuckles, "Read and find out."

Katara's brow furrows, "While reading, you'll find we were not always so rigid and lifeless," Madam Min nods to the scroll, "we were a diverse and colorful people once. With romance bleeding in our hearts and dance in our souls. We have long since wandered from the path of our ancestors."

Katara's hands clutch at the scroll instinctively, "Your ancestors?"

Madam Min chuckles, "The Sun Warriors, Guardians of the Eternal Flame and Descendants of the Dragons."

Katara's eyes widen a fraction. She had never heard of the Sun Warriors before now.

As if reading her thoughts the Madam steps around her, "Not many know of our history," she moves to a different shelf, littered with scrolls that looked ancient, "but it was vibrant. Festivals celebrating the start of spring, the triumph of light over darkness," she scuffs as she pulls a few more scrolls from the shelf, "we celebrated everything with a burning passion, even star-crossed lovers. Our souls rivaled the eternal flame and even the dragons envied our spirits."

"What happened?" Katara finds herself asking.

The Madam levels her gaze with a fierce look, "Pride."

Brows furrowing, Katara steps forward, "I don't understand."

The Madam hands over the scrolls and dusts her hands together, "The more our people learned from the dragons, the more pride began to settle into our hearts."

"Being prideful is not a sin," Katara states her chest puffing out slightly.

The Madam shakes her head, "No, it isn't. But it can be poisonous when you lose sight of what is right."

Katara watches her as she goes to sit down in one of the large open windows, "Pride evolves to greed and soon greed turns to hatred. When there is hatred fueling a nation, misguided hatred at that, everyone suffers."

Slowly Katara sits down across from her, scrolls at her side, "Some more than others," she mutters softly.

The Madam looks at her sympathetically for a moment, "Most people seem to forget that the first nation the Imperial Firebenders invaded was their own."

At that Katara chews on the inside of her cheek, not knowing quite how to respond. There was not much she knew of the Fire Nation's history. She only knew of their hatred and savagery when it came to destroying her village, raid after raid.

"Not all in the Fire nation agreed with the decimation of the Air Nomads or the raids on the Southern Water Tribe. Those who spoke against the insanity of Fire Lord Sozin were wiped out. His fear and greed controlled him to the point of paranoia. To kill your own people, that as a ruler you swore to protect…" Madam Min trails off with a suffering voice and Katara's heart breaks just a little.

"I didn't realize—"

The Madam cut her off, "Not many do. The world wants to believe that they were the first victims of Fire Lord Sozin's rage. But they weren't. He turned against his people long before he turned against the other nations," she sighs heavily, her eyes glistening, "and what was the response to such brutality by the other nations?"

Katara is stunned into silence and the Madam narrows her gaze, "Exactly. The world was silent."

Katara casts her eyes downward, hands fidgeting in her lap and she became increasingly uncomfortable under her gaze. The idea of the Fire Nation turning against her own people was unthinkable and it made Katara feel uncomfortable. She didn't want to feel sympathy for anyone from the Fire Nation. It would make her time here that much easier if she could continue hating them. But knowing this small bit of information, forces a new light upon Katara's ideology and she hates it.

"The truth often makes us uncomfortable Katara," the Madam clasps her hand around Katara's, "but it must be understood, so justice is rightfully served."

Katara nods not knowing quite what to say. She merely offers a comforting hand over Madam Min's and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

The Madam smiles softly, "Never take the role of a judge before understanding the entirety of a situation Katara," she pulls her hand away and stands, "it only makes fools out of everyone and fuels the hatred more."

Katara rises, gathering the scrolls in her hand, "Yes Madam," she bows her head.

"Come," the Madam turns on her heel and begins to lead Katara from the library, "you must meet with the Royal Tailor and get your measurements taken."

***~*~***

The Madam knocks on the doors to the Royal Tailor's suites and Katara can here a faint, "Be there in a moment!" coming from the other side.

Suddenly one door swings open and there is a tall, middle-aged man standing there with hair falling from his topknot. His robes a disarray and chalked strings hang around his neck. Small needles stick out of a pin cushion that is secured at his wrist. His skin reminds Katara of honey and his eyes a brilliant dusky hue. There is bit of gray streamed through his ebony hair, but Katara doesn't mind. She finds that it makes him a bit more appealing to the eye.

"Nyla! I was wondering when you'd stop by," his brow wiggles at her suggestively and the Madam huffs indignantly.

"It is Madam Min, Mushi," she grates out and the man chuckles at her irritation.

Katara watches this small interaction and she notes the fondness in the Royal Tailor's eyes as he looks at the Madam. Reminds her of how she once caught her father looking at her mother when she was making stewed sea prunes. She had seen that look many times shared between her parents and she knew what it meant. For a brief moment she wonders if the Madam shares his affections in return or if her eyes wandered elsewhere. Suddenly Katara is reminded of the interaction she noted between the prince and the Madam and for some reason, it bothers her.

"Who is this delectable creature you have with you?" he steps out, dusting his hands off.

"Katara," the Madam rolls her eyes at the man, "this is the Royal Tailor."

The tailor bows swiftly, hand sweeping out to collect one of Katara's, "You may call me Mushi, my lady."

The Madam clears her throat and Katara blushes shyly, pulling her hand away from his after feeling his lips brush across her flesh.

"We came here to get Katara's measurements," the Madam states as she brushes past Mushi.

The man in question simply chuckles before turning and extending his arm out, "This way my lady."

As Katara enters, she notes the luxurious outfit on display in the center of the room. A mannequin models the the fabric. It was breath taking. Katara wonders if it was for a noblewoman or even the princess herself. Though she thinks it may be too colorful for the Princess Azula. Mushi takes note of her intrigued observation of the outfit and comes to stand behind her, his voice and proximity startling her momentarily.

"Do you like it?" he asks her softly, breath brushing over her ear.

Katara nods softly, "It is beautiful."

Mushi moves around her to stand next to his masterpiece, "Song will be pleased, I'm sure," he states with pride and the Madam nods.

"You've outdone yourself this time Mushi."

"I tried to stick to the culture of both ancient Sun Warriors and Ancient Air Nomads," he states as his hand traces down the side of the piece.

Katara cocks her head slightly and observes that it isn't a dress it is something entirely different.

"What is it exactly?" Katara asks and Mushi looks at her stunned for a moment.

"It's art," he declares finally and Katara finds herself chuckling at his dramatics.

She nods her head, hand covering her mouth, "Of course."

"This, my dearest little flower is what we call a lehenga with a backless anarkali-style blouse," he begins, showing off the top and bottom piece of the exquisitely designed outfit, "I've added a brocade lining to the skirt and beneath it are a pair of loose fitting pants," he declares as if Katara knows what any of that means.

Katara watches as his hand traces over the sheer gold sleeve of the blouse, "I thought floral thread work and sequins fit well with the blouse," he turns to Madam Min, "while adding bold gotta patti borders in a molten gold to the skirt in layers. I feel like it brings both cultures together appropriately," he finishes by weaving his hands together.

"It is a remarkable piece Mushi," the Madam says with a genuine tone, "it suits Song's beauty and personality well."

He spins to Katara, "Wait until you see the jewelry," he states excitedly, "the Royal Jeweler was excited to make these pieces for this performance."

As he ushers Katara over to a small gold case she finds herself amused yet irritated. They made jewelry for this one specific dance, that may or may not be repeated in the future. It seemed like such a waste when there were people starving in the streets and a war going on to spend such money and resources on silly things like a dress and jewelry for one night's performance. She couldn't fully wrap her mind around it. But this was the Fire Nation. They were thriving off the war and perhaps these small things distracted them from the reality beyond their borders. As she gazes at the jewelry pieces inside the small golden trunk, she cannot deny the artistry of the lehenga and how the jewels would only enhance its overall appearance. It was beautiful beyond measure and Song, with her milky smooth skin, will look ravishing in it.

"This is a nath," he pulls out a ring with a chain on it that has a hook at its end. Katara's quizzical gaze entices Mushi to explain the jewelry pieces to her.

"This," he points to the ring itself, "is secured via a piercing in Song's nose," Katara's face scrunches just a little at the thought, "and this," he points to the hook, "can either be fastened at the top of the ear or in the hair."

"Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?" she asks.

"As a Royal Concubine, you trade comfort for beauty Katara," the madam's voice comes from behind her, "you'd do well to remember that." Katara sighs softly at that with a small roll of her eyes.

She observes the piece a little more and she cannot deny its beauty. A gold ring with what looks to be a large fire lily made out of precious stones, accompanied by a smaller fire lily. Diamonds inlaid into the base of the piece with pearls that are threaded to the gold bar with small golden rods and they protrude out the other side. A string of pearls on golden threading go from the side of the ring and continue for almost a hand's length and stop when a small hook takes up the end.

Next he pulls these intricate golden pieces out that have four rings that are attached to strings of golden disks connected to them. With what appears to be some type of golden bracket attached to it all at the base.

"These are called haath phool," he begins to slip one in over his hand, "they are worn to draw attention to the movements of the hand," all four rings fit perfectly on his fingers. As the piece is stretched out, the gold pieces travel down each finger to fasten to a wrist piece. It is quite beautiful.

Next his hand dances across a piece that looks like a fan of a bird's tail feathers, "This is a passa and it is secured in the hair," it is made of small pearls and a few precious stones and at it's too, there is another small hook, "it is secured in the hair."

"And last, but certainly not least, we have what is called a kundan choker," his hand grazes over a necklace and Katara instinctively reaches for her throat. She is reminded by its nakedness that her necklace had fallen off in battle. Her heart twists with guilt and despair at losing the last thing she had of her mother. Her eyes slowly travel down to the choker and she notes its beauty. Where her mother's was a simple blue silk collar and a blue wet stone, this piece was all gold and strung together on golden threads no doubt. Intricately designed pointed golden pieces strung together with a pearl at the top and bottom of each point.

"Beautiful," she mumbles softly and Mushi beams.

"Yes, all of these pieces are based off of the ancient cultures with our modern twist and I think Aro did a fantastic job." Mushi closes the small box that contains the jewelry.

"He certainly did," the madam's voice comes from behind Katara.

"Come," Mushi offers her his hand, which Katara takes mutely and he escorts her over to a small platform. She steps up on it per his request and he begins to circle her like a predator surveying its prey.

"Pardon my intrusive proximity Lady Katara, but I must take your measurements now," Mushi says as he grabs a roll of chalked threading.

Katara merely nods as he comes closer, her eyes never leaving him. He reaches out, palm up, "May I?" his eyes lower to the scrolls in her hands.

She clears her throat softly before placing them in his awaiting hand, "Thank you," he smiles before tossing the scrolls to the cushioned seating next to the Madam.

Slowly he begins to pull the threading and loops it around her neck, careful not to touch her. Then he clips it. Another threading in a different color goes from the high point of her shoulder, down to her thigh, then another from shoulder to knee and finally, another color coded thread from shoulder to toe. Katara's brow raises slightly and Mushi understands her confusion.

"Different length dresses require me to know where your thighs, knees and feet are," he explains before pulling out another thread, "lift your arms for me."

Katara does as instructed and her breath hitches when he gets too close, both hands go under her arms, circling around her back—

There is an abrupt knock at the door and all three turn to it sharply, "Enter!" Mushi states as he pulls back from Katara. Her heart pounding at how close the Tailor was but also at the sudden loud intrusion. Her hand instinctively rests over her racing heart as she turns her gaze to the door.

"Mushi, if I have to listen to Uncle Iroh talk about his leaf juice a minute long—" Prince Zuko barges in, head down as he pushes both doors to the tailor's suites open. He stills when he sees Madam Min and the Water Tribe temptress standing there startled.

"Forgive me, I did not know you were otherwise occupied," he states, eyes connecting with Katara's. They hold their gaze with one another for quite some time, that is until Katara quickly turns to look at Madam Min.

"Zuko my boy!" Mushi rushes over to him, slinging an arm around his shoulders, "You know Iroh, such a passionate man when it comes to his tea!" he chuckles, pulling the Prince further into the room.

Zuko merely nods, eyes wandering back to Katara as she stands elevated on the pedestal. He mutely nods.

"So," Mushi's voice drags him out of his trance, "What brings you here?" he asks as he lays out the varying colored threads on his table.

Zuko clears his throat, "Uncle asked that I find you and Madam Min—"

"What could that old man want now?" Mushi chuckles.

Katara is stunned by the attitude of the Royal Tailor. His relationship with the Prince and his uncle must be quite comfortable if he dares to be so bold as to talk to them without a hint of respect. Katara finds it odd how a Royal Tailor and even the Madam seem to have such a close and personable relationship with the Prince. She intends to find out to the exact extent of said relationships and if they can be used to her advantage.

"Mushi!" the Madam swats the back of his head, "Show the General some respect, you cur!"

The man in question waives his hand at Madam Min dismissively, "When you've known Iroh as long as I have, you get special privileges," he chuckles, patting Zuko on his shoulder as he passes by.

"Did General Iroh state what the nature of our visit would be?" Madam Min asked, hesitant to leave Katara unattended.

The prince merely shook his head, "Not the faintest idea, but I'm sure it has something to do with tea and pai sho."

"Perhaps after we've finished—" the Madam gestures toward Katara and Mushi hooks his arm around Zuko's neck, effectively pulling him down to eye level.

"Zuko here can finish the rest for me," he taps Zuko's chest, "besides, weren't you just preaching about respect? To keep the General waiting seems to be very disrespectful," Mushi chuckles at the Madam's unamused face.

The madam looks back to Katara to see her eyes wide and it was evident that she did not want to be left alone with the Prince. To be quite frank, the Madam didn't want to leave Katara unattended either. Agni knows what that girl would do.

"What all do you have left?" Prince Zuko asks.

Mushi smirks, leaning in to whisper in his ear. Zuko seems to visibly flush as his eyes slowly rise to meet Katara's gaze. He nods his head and then clears his throat once Mushi releases him from his grip.

"Come among Nyla, Iroh waits for no man!" Mushi erupts with a boisterous voice as he marches to the doors, he swivels around with an amused face, "Or women for that matter," and chuckles as the madam storm's after him, throwing a small needle cushion at him that she finds on one of the various tables.

She pauses briefly at Katara, "I will return as soon as possible," her eyes flicker between Katara and the Prince, "please, don't do anything stupid or irrational. He is a good man," and with that, she follows Mushi out of the chamber. The doors close loudly behind them, sealing Zuko and Katara in the chamber together, alone.

Zuko's hand comes up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. His eyes look around the room as he takes a deep breath. Katara crosses her arms over her chest, though she is still in her silk robe, she feels exposed. Silly she knows, the Prince had seen more of her body and touched her more intimately just mere hours ago. His movement catches her attention. She watches as he makes his way to the table with the spools of chalked thread. He collects a blue threaded spool and then turns to Katara.

"I just have to measure three places," he states softly, "then Mushi will have all of your measurements," he starts to approach her as if she was a wounded sea lion. Which if she thinks about it, she actually kind of is in his eyes.

Her eyes linger on his hands as he begins to pull the threading from the spool, his eyes meeting hers, demanding her attention silently, "Will you lift your arms for me?"

Katara stares at him for a moment, heart beginning to pound as she realizes how close he is about to get, she nods slowly, raising her arms up just enough for him to slip his under. As he steps into her space, she is greeted with the smell of charred sandalwood and musk. It is intoxicating and his overwhelming presence brushing up against her makes her knees feel like buckling. As swiftly as he approached, he pulls back, tugging the thread around her waist and bringing it together in the center. He reaches for the shears and clips the threading. Quietly he retreats and places the blue thread amongst the others and grabs a purple thread next. Again he is in her space and this time he seems hesitant.

"I need to measure—" he trails off, eyes averting upward and his hand pointing to her chest. Katara covers herself quickly once more and he steps behind her, "I won't touch you inappropriately," he whispers in her ear and Katara feels chills running down her spine. But these were different, these sent a warmth sensation to the pit of her stomach and she curses her body and how it reacts to him. Slowly she lowers her arms. She keeps repeating the same mantra in her head over and over that he is the enemy, but when she feels the chalked threading press against her bosom and his hands graze across her back, her mind goes blank.

A clipping sound echos in the silence of the room as the Prince cuts the threading and Katara releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. He comes to her once more with a gold thread.

"Last one," he states, "for the hips."

Katara nods. He suddenly sinks down onto one knee and Katara steps backwards out of instinct. His hand bolts out, fingers clasping around her wrist, holding her in place.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he looks up at her startled gaze and he can see her chest moving raggedly, "you have my word."

A flash of something that he can't quite place burns in her eyes for a mere second before it's gone. He can feel the fight slipping from her body as she becomes pliant under his hand. Once she is back to a steady breath, he releases her wrist and she pulls it up to her chest as if she had been burned. Her other hand instinctively wrapping around it.

As he slowly begins to wrap his arms loosely around her hips with the thread, his eyes never leave hers. He notes when the chalked string touches her body, her breath hitches as he secures it tightly back to the front. He cuts the string silently. Their gazes lock, never leaving one another's. Slowly Zuko rises, he is so unbearably close to her that if he were to move just a hair forward, their chests would touch and their lips would graze. He looks over her for a moment, pulling his face back just enough to really look at her and he can tell that she's uncomfortable with how close he is to her. But he can tell that her body has a mind of its own. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, so much so that she ends up grazing him. His eyes snap down to where their bodies connect before slowly raising his gaze to hers.

There is something in her eyes that he knows all too well. Unbridled desire. Something uncontrollable. The body's natural response is often times a curse upon its owner. But something in him snaps when she presses against him tentatively. Almost as if daring him to touch her. Swiftly his hand grips her waist, pulling her flush against him. A soft gasp escapes her while his other hand comes up to tuck a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. A flash of blue around his wrist is caught from her peripheral but she doesn't think much of it. Their eyes never waiver in this stare down and Katara shudders at the warmth that radiates from him as he speaks.

"You are so beautiful temptress," his breath fans across her face, her lips part as she feels like he is moving in closer. But he pauses, his eyes searching hers for something and she doesn't know what it is he is looking for. Slowly be pulls back from her and she is confused.

"I am so sorry," he whispers before pulling away from her entirely and without another word, the Prince exits the tailor's study, tossing the shears and gold thread on the table on his way out.

Katara sinks to the floor, gasping for air. The tension was suffocating. She cannot help the way her body is drawn to him, even if her mind is of different thought. She mulls over what he called her, temptress and she feels her face heating up and a smile skim across her lips. Quickly she shakes her head and decides to return to the harem. She collects her scrolls and leaves without further thought.  
  


***~*~***

That night she stays up late with only a small candle illuminating her room. Her eyes burn from irritation and she sighs, pushing the Mastani scroll away from her in frustration. She collapses on her low rising table. She cannot read Fire Script. How does Madam Min expect her to have this read in a weeks time?

As if sensing her distress, there is a knock outside her chamber and Katara sits up slightly to see who it is.

"I see you're still awake," the Madam parts the silk doorway and comes to sit in front of Katara.

Katara huffs in annoyance, "I will never understand what this says," she rolls the scroll towards the madam, "or any of them for that matter."

The Madam smiles at Katara and it is genuine, "You'll meet your tutor in the morning," she rolls the scroll up, "but I'm sure you won't have it mastered by next week's performance."

Katara scowls at her and the Madam laughs.

"I'll be more than willing to give you a summarized version, but I still think it would be important for you to read it once you're able," the Madam says and Katara perks up at the suggestion.

"Please tell me, I promise to read the scroll once I know how."

The Madam looks at her with a narrowed gaze, as of to measure the weight of her words before a smile breaks out across her lips, "Very well."

"Mastani was a warrior princess from a small village east of the Western Air Temple," the Madam begins telling her tale, "she was one of the most beautiful women history knew. It was said that she had a fierce protectiveness over her people. One day, her village was threatened by outsiders. At the time, the Air Nomads were nomadic monks who abhorred violence. They refused to come to her villages aid. So, she had but one choice left and that was to turn to the Sun Warriors."

Katara was enthralled. She leans on the table, staring the Madam down with curious eyes.

"Her plight appealed to the young Sun Warrior leader, a man named Bajirao and he decided to assist in protecting her village from destruction. Now, different cultures had different traditions. When Bajirao gave Mastani his knife as a token of their bond, in her village, that was a sign of marriage between a young couple. So when Bajirao left her island, she followed him shortly after. Her heart was so full of love that being separated from him for too long caused her pain."

The candle flickers in the night and Katara is drawn to the Madam's story telling, "So she appeared before his court, proclaiming her love for him before all his people in the form of a song and dance. Mastani knew that Bajirao had a wife and that she would be considered his second wife, with less standing, but she did not care. For her love was pure and without him, life was not worth living."

Katara pulls up from the table, her brows scrunched in confusion, "She knew he was married and still tried to win his heart?"

"He had given it to her willingly the day he gave her that knife. Bajirao knew of her villages traditions. He was a well educated man. Now, as for the rest of the story," the Madam sits up, "you'll have to read the rest."

Katara pouts , "There is no more you can tell me?"

Madam Min shakes her head, "I've told you enough to understand the performance, the rest you will have to read for yourself."

Katara clicks her tongue in discontent.

For a moment they sit there in silence and Katara realizes that she no longer has makeup on. She is stunned to say this, but the Madam is breathtaking.

"Why do you wear makeup?" Katara asks abruptly.

The Madam is startled slightly by the sudden intrusion on their peaceful silence, "Pardon?"

Katara repeats herself and the Madam bows her head shyly, "To hide my face."

"Why? You're quite beautiful. If anything, the makeup makes you look far older," Katara states matter of factly.

Madam Min smirks, "I do not wish to garner any attention from the Fire Lord," she looks up at Katara, "so I hide behind an aged mask created by makeup to keep those with wandering eyes disinterested."

"How old—"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you it is rude to ask a lady her age?" she interrupts Katara playfully, but immediately regrets it when she registers the sad look in her eyes.

"My mother died when I was a child."

Madam Min knew this of course. She knew Katara's history and she cursed herself for the lapse in judgment, "I am so sorry Katara, I didn't mea—"

She smiles sadly as she cuts the Madam off, "It happened a long time ago," she waves her hand dismissively.

"I just turned 40 this year," the Madam moves the conversation back to its original path.

Katara nods, "With the makeup, you look much older."

The Madam smiles, "And please, when we are alone, you may call me Nyla."

Katara smiles, "Thank you, Nyla."

They sit silently for a few more moments. Katara chews on her inner lip before she decides to present her idea to Nyla.

"I want to seduce Prince Zuko," she blurts out in a whispered voice, not wanting anyone who was still awake to hear her.

Nyla jerks back at her statement, "What?"

"I want to appeal to Prince Zuko more than the Fire Lord."

Nyla sighs, her fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose, "He has a fiancé—"

Katara interrupts her, "That he does not want or so the gossip says—"

"And he has Lady Song!" Nyla whispers back harshly, "Have you forgotten about her?"

Slowly Katara pulls back, "Please, I cannot go to the Fire Lord!"

Nyla is surprised by Katara's show of emotion, "It is not up to me who claims you Katara," she whispers out, leaning closer, "I may be of the Order, but my power in the palace is limited."

"But—"

"That means that if Prince Zuko was interested and that is a big if, he would have to challenge the Fire Lord for you," the Madam continues.

"He is interested," Katara becomes bold.

"Prince Zuko is a good man Katara," Nyla hisses at her through gritted teeth, "he does not need to be roped into your schemes. He has dealt with enough."

"So I should suffer because you don't think he could best his father?" Katara hisses back.

Nyla pinches the bridge of her nose once more, "You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

Nyla sets a firm gaze on Katara, "It isn't my story to tell. But positioning Prince Zuko against his father is dangerous waters you're wading into."

"If you're not gonna help me—"

"I didn't say that," Nyla interrupted her, "I just said that you're going into dangerous waters and I hope you're ready for any of the consequences that follow."

A determined look passes over Katara's face, "Anything is better than letting that monster touch me."

Nyla sighs, resigning to Katara's demand, "We'll start once you're healed."

"We can start tomorrow," Katara corrects her.

"Your wound—"

Katara interrupts her, "I've dealt with worse. I am a warrior remember?"

There is silence once more and Nyla seems to be mulling over something.

Finally she speaks, "I sent word out to the Order's post in Gaoling," Katara perks up, "I told them that upon your brother's return, they are to inform him of your infiltration plan. That they are not to mount a rescue mission, that you are safe under my care."

Katara chews on her lip for a moment, thinking over Nyla's words, "Thank you. Knowing Sokka, he'd try to find a way to rescue me. But I cannot let him cost us the war. I need Sokka to watch over _him_ and to keep _his_ training on schedule. They still need to find both a instructor for earth and fire."

"We have already acquired a firebender," Nyla states, offering no further explanation.

Shaking her head in disbelief, "Master Jeong Jeong?"

"No, someone else. Someone who has an invested interest in the future of the Fire Nation. They will meet with _him_ once _he_ has found _his_ earthbending teacher and mastered that element," Nyla supplies her matter of factly.

Katara nods, "Very well."

Another stretch of silence passes between them as sleep begins to lull their minds.

Nyla stands, stretching out her body before looking down at katara, "Get some rest," she heads toward the exit, "we start at dawn."

A heavy breath passes through Katara's lips as she slumps back against the wall behind her. A smirk tugs at her lips. She was sincere when she told the Madam that she wanted Zuko more than his father. He did not seem like he would force himself upon her and would respect her enough. That would make Katara's time here easier. It would give her the time and space she needed to do her own reconnaissance within the palace and its archives. Besides, he had Song to sedate his carnal desires.

***~*~***

Dawn came far more abruptly than Katara would have liked. Madam Min storms her room, throwing open the curtains along the eastern wall. Katara yelps at the intrusion and tries to burrow herself deeper into her covers. But the Madam isn't having any of that. She crosses the room and rips the covers off of Katara's body, forcing a yelp from her.

"Up Lady Katara! You're burning precious daylight!" Madam Min shouts.

Katara bolts upright looking like a wild animal and the Madam cannot help but laugh, "Come," she tosses a robe to Katara, "we have much to do!"

Groaning, Katara rolls from the bed, slipping the robe over her sheer white nightgown and tosses her hair into a sloppy bun. She follows the Madam silently as she tries to rub the sleep from her eyes.

They are in the main bath house, towels wrapped securely around them. Their wet hair pinned above their heads. Nyla has been instructing Katara on tea house etiquette and how it differs from dance. It can still be seductive but in a more demure and subtle way.

"Say I'm entertaining the Admiral," Nyla starts, beads of water traveling down her neck, "like so many others in the Fire Nation he is trapped in a politically arranged marriage. So in the harem, when he's seeking my company instead, I reward him like this," she twists her hand around, pulling her sleeve up gently to bare her flesh, "with a glimpse of my wrist," she pretends to grab a tea kettle.

Katara watches carefully, "Seeing this demure patch of skin gives him pleasure," she scoffs at Nyla's words.

Nyla gives her a gentle shove, "Or when you're sitting down, press your leg against his," Nyla presses her outer thigh against Katara's and quickly shies away, "always by accident of course," she continues with a gentle bow, hand coming to cover the coy smile on her lips.

Katara laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, "You think this alone will seduce him?"

Nyla splashes water at her and Katara laughs, splashing her back, "Focus on your studies Katara. Music, the art of conversation. The surest way to win over Prince Zuko is on your feet, not off them."

Katara sighs as they both take their leave from the bathhouse, "Speaking of studies, your Fire Script tutor will meet you in the library within the half hour. We will continue our lessons afterward," the Madam states and Katara quickly darts to her room, changes and rushes off to the library. The guards give her a sharp bow and allow her access with ease. She feels giddy at the thought of them letting her, their enemy, walk right past them without a second thought.

She spends her time waiting for her tutor by looking around the library. Hoping soon to understand what each section meant. Too bad it was all in Fire Script. Soon, she'd be able to read the strange markings and come to understand the Fire Nation's language well enough to get some damning intel. As she looks around, she suddenly feels a presence and she cannot shake the feeling that she is not alone. She turns slowly around, looking down either side of the isle and sees no one. Normally her instincts are pretty spot on.

"Looking for someone?" a gruff and foreign voice catches her off guard.

Whirling around, Katara backs into the shelf out of sheer surprise to see none other than Commander Zhao standing behind her. Her eyes widen a fraction as he inches closer and she tries to contain the snarl forcing its way onto her lips.

"I thought my eyes deceived me when I saw you that day in the throne room," his breath fans across her cheek as she averts her gaze, eyes set firmly on the ground.

She had encountered Zhao several times along their journey to the Earth Kingdom from the Northern Water Tribe. They had fought against one another several times. She will admit there was a single moment when she thought he was going to kill her. But the killing blow never came. She discovered that one of his men didn't agree with killing women and charged him. The man had saved her and took her back to her camp where Yue healed her injuries. He was clad in a Fire Nation uniform and his helmet obscured her view of his face. To this day she still wishes she could have thanked him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Zhao demands, inching closer.

Katara can feel the shelving digging into her back as she presses against it, trying to keep as much space between them as possible.

"No," she says firmly, shifting her gaze away from him entirely.

He snarls viciously, "Oh? You'd rather look at my boots? Well then," his hand shoots out, wrapping around her throat and he pulls her in close, "take a look!" suddenly he throws her to the ground.

Katara falls with a loud thud and she wonders if the guards outside can hear the commotion.

"I remember you, Katara of the Joint Water Tribes," he towers over her as she comes to sit on her knees, still avoiding his gaze, "so strong willed and fierce," the tip of his boot hooks under her chin, lifting her face for their eyes to meet, "but not to worry, I'll break you of that in no time."

Katara jerk's her face away from his boot and tries to back away but he is bending down to her and his hand snaps out snatching hold of her jaw.

"Now look me in the eye!" spit hits her face as his fingers dig into her cheeks and she is forced to make eye contact with this monster. Her breathing quickens and her fists clench at her sides. He pulls her up to where she is practically standing on her knees.

"See," he sneers down at her, "isn't that better?"

Katara tries to pull her face from his grasp but it only tightens and she whimpers softly at the pain.

"You will do as I say or pay the price. You will—" seeing an opening, she takes it and with all of her strength, Katara pulls her fist back before punching him square between his legs. He howls and falls to his knees before her and Katara takes the opportunity to break his nose, her fist colliding with bone and cartilage before running away. She tries to make it to the library entrance before he can recover. Unfortunately she is not successful. She hears him curse behind her as arms fasten around her waist effectively trapping her.

Spinning on his heel, Zhao slams Katara up against one of the scroll shelves and it rattles at the force. She gasps when she feels his hand on her throat and a knee forcing its way between her legs. She struggles against him and he chuckles darkly at her struggling.

"Where is your waterbending now Princess?"

Suddenly someone clearing their throat get Zhao's attention, "I said no interruptions!" he spits in her face and Katara claws at his hand around her throat, "Who dares to interrupt me?!"

Katara's eyes widen when she sees the Prince standing there, his radiant golden eyes narrow into dangerous slits as he takes in the scene before him.

Zhao notices her facial expression and turns just in time for Prince Zuko to speak, "I do Commander," Zuko approaches swiftly.

"Prince Zuko—" Zhao begins but is silenced when a had wraps around his throat and the Prince slams him into the shelf, pinning him there. Katara gasps and falls to the ground when Zhao releases her and she scurries away from the two men. She notes briefly that the Prince is a few inches taller than Zhao, much more broad and well defined. She is sure he can take Zhao head on if need be.

"Are you alright?" Prince Zuko asks Katara and she nods, hand massaging her throat as she stands.

His attention turns back to Zhao, pulling him dangerously close to his face, "If I ever see you lay a hand on her like that again," Zhao begins to squirm beneath the Prince's grip and suddenly Katara can see small plumes of smoke rising from his hand, "I'll be sure to leave a mark they won't be able to heal."

Zuko snatches his hand away from Zhao's throat and a red palm mark is seared into his skin. Katara could tell it wouldn't leave any type of scarring.

"Get out of my sight," Zuko commanded and Zhao scurries off without a second glance at Katara.

His attention quickly turns to her. He approaches her with swift steps and she ends up backing herself up against a wall. She turns her face when he is close, too close and before she can protest, she feels his hand on her chin, slowly lifting her head up. Fingers run across her throat gingerly and electricity floods her body from such a delicate touch.

"It shouldn't bruise," his hoarse voice mumbles before he's pulling away and giving her ample space.

Instinctively, Katara's hand comes up to her throat, "Thank you, your majesty," she bows sincerely to him, "I don't know what I would have—"

He holds up a hand, cutting her off, "Don't let your mind wander down that path Lady Katara," she stares at him for a moment.

They both are silent before he speaks up once more, "Madam Min said that you were to be learning Fire Script?"

Katara nods, brow arches in curiosity as to how he knew that, "Yes, I'm waiting for my tutor."

Prince Zuko hums in acknowledgement, "Please," his hand extends towards one of the tables, "sit. We have much to go over before I have to attend a council meeting."

Katara looks at him quizzically, her brows furrowing, "Wha—"

"Madam Min asked that I help you with your Fire Script studies. I am your tutor," he sits down, waiting for her to join him.

Katara stares in disbelief before coming to sit in the chair next to the Prince, "Why?"

Prince Zuko shrugs, "Perhaps it's because I am the only one who speaks your native tongue and can read and write in Water Tribe Script. She thought it would be much easier, since we have a common ground to start on."

"You speak Water Tribe dialect?" Katara asks shocked.

The Prince nods with a smile, "Now," he pulls a blank parchment and a full inkwell over to them and holds out an ink brush, "shall we begin?"

***~*~***

"When you sway your hips just so," the choreographer's hands grip Katara's hips, "it is more enticing."

Katara nods, wiping sweat from her brow as she tries to recreate the movement once more. They had been in the practice room for hours going over Katara's dance routine. Every bit of this dance was seductive and Katara was horrified when the instructor had first showed her the choreography. Not to mention, the outfit Mushi had planned for her was not only stunning, but left very little to the imagination. Mushi wanted it to fit right with the style of music and Katara trusted his designing intuition. She told him that she wished to be desirable and he had jokingly told her that she didn't require anything to achieve that. She was flattered by his comment and shooed him away.

***~*~***

Her days had been tightly scheduled. In the early morning she would have her tutor sessions with Prince Zuko. Slowly, they became familiar with one another on small things. He talked of his people and his nation and how he spoke of both intrigued Katara. His passion made her want to experience his world the way he had, but she knew it was impossible to dream of such things. He asked her about the Joint Tribes and what it was like growing up there. Katara told him all she felt comfortable with. Not wishing to give too much away. She found it was easy to talk to him and thought that maybe, if their lives had been different, perhaps she and Zuko could have been friends. A blush would form at the thought of them being something more, but with the way the world was, lovers such as them would be frowned upon. So she would give him small snippets of her life. She would talk to him about hunting in the Southern Tundra for sea lions and about how her Gran Gran would make her help with the daily chores. He seemed fascinated by her life and he had finally asked how she had come to the Fire Nation. She was honest to a degree. She couldn't tell him that she was traveling with the Avatar. That would be like dangling a piece of meat before a mooselion. The Avatar was still thought to be a relic of times long past and Aang was not known to anyone outside of the Order. His presence could not be discovered until the appropriate hour. So she told him that she had been traveling with a band of rebels and were set upon by the Fire Nation. That she had been captured in the struggle.

He had apologized, his hands grabbing her own and trying to give her some form of reassurance.

"I know it isn't much, but I promise to protect you for as long as I'm here," he had told her one morning after their lessons and Katara had asked if he was going somewhere.

He was extremely cryptic and said, "I'm hoping that with my next assignment outside of the palace, the war will finally come to an end."

He did not elaborate further, but had merely told her that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and she believed him. She couldn't deny the small subtle touches they shared or the quick glances exchanged during their lessons. She also couldn't deny that when she moved through the palace, she would silently pray she'd come across him. She was being silly and she cursed herself for it.

After her lessons with the Prince, she would head to the dance hall to practice with her choreographer. Jin would accompany her and boost her moral with cheers, whoops and chants. She empowered Katara when she felt like she wasn't doing well enough, when she thought that she wasn't enticing enough.

"If I was a man…" Jin would say, wiggling her eyebrows and she'd chase after Katara's skirts, "I'd have you all to myself!" she would yell as she would finally catch Katara in her arms. They would laugh together and find joy in their moments alone. It almost felt like normal and Katara found herself chastising herself for finding joy in the small freedoms she had here. She was still a prisoner, even if she had a friend and an ally inside the palace. She was still unclear at to what the Prince was to her.

But like the Madam, Jin somehow seemed to know what was going on in her head. She would often settle down in front of Katara, fingers tucking loose strands of wild locks behind her ears and she would smile sympathetically. She would take Katara's hands in her own and give them a kiss before holding them tightly.

"You are not alone," she would say, "sometimes I wonder if it is right that I find happiness within these walls," it was then that Katara knew that Jin was exactly like her, "it is ok Katara," she would say, "it is ok to find happiness and to hold on to it. Because that is what will get us through today and the day after that."

Always Katara would nod and smile, tears brimming in her eyes and Jin would pull her close, hold her, stroke her hair and tell her that everything was going to be ok. That they were going to be ok. Jin's words rang true and Katara decided that she would no longer belittle herself for finding some joy in the time of her captivity. There were things to be happy about. She was learning Fire Script. She had access to a surmountable amount of knowledge on the Fire Nation. She was strengthening her ties with the one of the Order's best kept agents and she was building a beautiful friendship with Jin. And then there was Prince Zuko. And enigma to her and she still could not piece together what he was to her exactly other than a means to an end. And as harshly as it sounded, she knew deep down that it was the furthest thing from the truth.

After her choreography lessons and moral sessions with Jin, Katara would then meet the Madam for etiquette lessons and for special grooming. Today was the final day for her preparation before her performance tomorrow night and she had to be ready. Everyone was rolled into the harem to work on her and she felt pampered.

***~*~***

"Come, we must bathe and shave you," Madam Min states as she once again drags Katara from her bed at dawn.

She was becoming use to the whole "rises with the sun" lifestyle that firebenders were so adept to. She still hates it, but she is becoming use to it.

"Shave me?" She asks groggily as she follows the madam to the bath house.

There Katara sees two maidservants waiting for her at the pools mouth. They rid her of her clothes and escort her into the warm waters.

"There is still much to teach you,"Madam Min begins as she sits down amongst the throw pillows and cushions, "but I feel as though you are well prepared for tomorrow night."

Katara smiles, "Thank you for your instruction."

With a wave of her hand, Madam Min dismisses her thanks, "I'd help you regardless. It is my duty as the Madam of the Royal Harem after all."

Katara laughs softly, "But of course."

The women work her hair as they do every day. Lathering it with scented oils after running whalebone combs through it.

As she sits there and lets the women work on her, she feels something sharp run up her leg. Alarmed she looks down into the water to see a small blade in one of the maidservant's hands.

"To shave your legs," she removes the small blade from the water and into Katara's view and Katara nods, calming her nerves.

The madam sits up, "Did they cut you?"

Katara shakes her head, "No, just startled me for a moment!"

She leans back as both women pull her into their hold and allows both women to continue their menstruations. By the time she is done, the only hair left on her body was on her head. It felt very intrusive to have her maidenhood shaved by someone else, but she bit her tongue and allowed them to continue. Once she was done, they rubbed oil into her skin and she smelled of lavender and lotus blossoms.

"There are a few things I wish to discuss with you," the Madam beckons her over, "and then we will make sure your dress is complete and go over your routine one last time."

Katara nods as she wraps her robe around herself before following the Madam back to her office. She sits across from her silently, watching the Madam take a tea kettle and cups from a maid servant.

"Now," Nyla begins to pour them tea, "the most important thing when you perform is to maintaining eye contact with Prince Zuko," she hands Katara her cup, "make it blatantly known that you are dancing for him."

Katara mumbles a thank you as she begins to sip her tea, "Next, under no circumstances are you to touch Fire Lord Ozai," Nyla states pointedly, "we do not want to make a spectacle and have anyone figuring out what it is your trying to do."

With a curt nod of her head, Katara continues to sip her tea, "And lastly, you should prepare for the evening after the performance."

"What do you mean?" Katara's brow furrows.

Nyla shifts before, she looks uncomfortable, "There are certain rules that I cannot change Katara. This being one of them. Whoever claims you as their lady, they are to bed you the first night."

Katara coughs, effectively choking on her tea, "What?"

Nyla's brow raises, "This is still a harem Katara and you are still a Lady of the Night. I have no power to change this rule. It has been a tradition for as long as I can remember. But there are ways to deal with it."

"Deal with it?" she sneers softly, "How do you deal with rape?"

Nyla's eyes widen, "Prince Zuko would never—"

"Ozai would," Katara grinds out, her hand clutching around her tea cup, "I cannot be his Nyla," her voice shakes, "I cannot."

Nyla is silent for a moment. She is leaning forward about to say something when a knock on her door halts her.

"Come in," she states firmly and in walks Prince Zuko, regal as ever.

Nyla practically swallows her tongue, wondering if he had heard what Katara said. She bolts up from her chair, bowing to the Prince and he waves it off with a small smile.

"Prince Zuko," Katara hears his name pass through the Madam's lips and she swirls around in her chair. Eyes wide and she too abruptly stands to bow to him as well.

"Your Majesty," she mutters softly as she bows at a ninety degree angle.

Zuko chuckles, his fingers coming to cradle the underside of her chin, he lifts her up, "There is no need to bow, either of you."

Katara nods, "What brings you here Prince Zuko?" Nyla asks before Katara has the chance to.

"I went to the library for our lessons," he gestures toward Katara, "but Lady Katara wasn't there," her hand shoots over her mouth. She had completely forgot!

"I am so sorry!" she tries to bow but is stopped by the look in his eye.

"Apologies Prince Zuko, I ended up keeping her too long. We were just going over a few minor details before her performance tomorrow night."

Prince Zuko looks at her quizzically, "Performance? I thought she couldn't perform due to her injury," he slowly turns to look at Katara.

She tilts her head down, her face heating up, "I am feeling much better, your majesty," she looks up at him and noticed his eyes widen a fraction as he takes in her blush, "I wanted to perform for you," she says softly, but gets flustered when she realizes what she said, "for y-you and the court officials!"

It's him who now looks flustered, he coughs briefly, "So long as your are well enough to do so, I'm sure the court would be pleased to see you dance," he averts his gaze to look back at the Madam, "I should be going."

"What about our lessons?" Katara asks and he turns to look at her.

"You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Take this time to relax Lady Katara. We will resume our lessons after tomorrow," and with that he leaves.

Katara sighs, she is slightly upset that she won't see him until tomorrow evening now, but it isn't the end of the world. She still has much to do in the way of getting ready for tomorrow. Perhaps relaxing for the rest of the day isn't such a terrible idea after all.

"You don't think he heard you, do you?" Nyla whispers across to her, not quite sure if the Prince is still within hearing distance.

Shaking her head, Katara breathes out softly, "I don't think so."

Nyla let out a shaky breath, "Come, let's go to Mushi and make sure your dress is finished."

Katara agrees and follows Nyla in silence.

Once they arrive, Katara is stunned at what she sees. To the left, on a mannequin is the outfit for Song's performance in all its glory and to the right is hers.

Mushi sees Katara's face and smiles as he flares out the skirt, "Do you like it?"

"Like it? Mushi, it is beautiful!" Katara exclaims as she comes up to the dress. Her fingers itch to touch it, but she is too afraid to.

"I was going more for 'Breathtaking!' not beautiful," he jokes and Katara laughs.

Her fingers run along the skirt and the feel is so luxurious. Her eyes catch on the top and she loves the way it is reflecting light.

"So," Mushi begins, "this was something a bit different," he gestures to the top, "a vermillion silk bralette with red and gold diamonds sewn into the fabric," the diamonds covered every inch of fabric both front and back.

"These diamonds are extremely rare," Katara gapes at that, preparing to ask why he used them on her dress and Mushi simply smiles, "much like you, it was only fitting," Katara smiles affectionately at him, "also, the way they glisten in the fire light," he kisses his fingers, "exquisite!"

Nyla rolls her eyes, but she smiles none the less, "The skirt is a layered 13 panel vermillion chiffon and silk skirt, with downward ruffles to give it a flow like feel. There are two front slits that go up to your upper thighs. Along the waist I have sewn these small gold disks and thigh length tassels where the hip skirt would normally go."

Some of the roped tassels have golden beads and coins on them, going down three quarts of the tassel length. Other tassels are roped and plain. She runs her fingers across them and they make a jingle noise as she does so. They will definitely make noise when she moves.

Katara nods, taking in the erotic beauty of the dress, "I felt vermillion red would compliment your skin tone very well."

She blushes at that, her fingers pulling at one of the roped tassels, "This is truly amazing, thank you so much," she bows quickly to him and he smiles.

"Now! For the jewelry!"

He leads them over to one of the counters in the room and pulls out a few intricately designed pieces.

"These are bangles," he holds up a decent number of bracelets, "they will fit up on your forearms," he shrugs, "to go with the sequencing on the bralette and skirt."

Katara looks back at the skirt and sure enough, there a diamonds sewn into it. She didn't notice before and her heart starts to thrum wildly in her chest. Why was he making her outfit so beautiful?

As she looks back at the bangles, she notices that some are solid red and gold, but most of them have gold and red diamonds decorating them and she cannot help but be awestruck by their beauty.

"These anklets I feel pair very well with the over all outfit," he gestures to two anklets that are of simple design. A heavy gold chain forms the top, a medium size gold chain sets in the middle and a thinner gold chain forms the bottom with small red diamonds filling in the spacing in-between. Attached to the bottom chain are small golden bells.

"And last, but certainly not least the belly ring," Katara's eyes widen at that, she looks down to see a small slim gold rod with a fire lily set on a chain, designed to dangle, "the fire lily is made up of blood rubies and cabochon emeralds."

Katara is flustered, "I don't—""

"Lady Katara does not have a belly piercing Mushi," Nyla interjected and he looked mildly confused.

"Why then would Fire Lord Ozai instruct this piece be made for her?"

"Fire Lord Ozai had this piece made for Lady Katara?" Nyla asks with an alertness in her tone.

Katara turns to Nyla with worry, "Why would he ask for such a thing to be made?"

"To show his favor upon you," Mushi states, confused as to the intent behind said jewelry piece, "both Fire Lord Ozai and Prince Zuko had something made for you."

"What did Prince Zuko have commissioned?" Nyla asks.

Mushi pulls out a gold chain necklace that has a small circular coin. Carved into the gold is a side profile of a blooming lotus blossom. The border around the gold coin is made of up small lines and dots. At the bottom, is a small semi circle and attached to it is a tear drop shaped blue stone with a gold encasing. It was simplistic and so very beautiful. Katara reaches out to examine the blue stone.

"He said that the aquamarine gemstone reminded him of your eyes and thought having something that reminded you of the ocean would be pleasing and hopefully bring you comfort," Mushi states as he puts the necklace back where it belongs.

Katara is touched by the Prince's commission, "It is beautiful," she whispers and Mushi nods.

After going over a few miscellaneous things, Mushi allows Katara and the Madam to take the outfit and jewelry back with them for the final practice run of her dance.

"You look absolutely stunning!" Jin exclaims when Katara puts on her full ensemble.

Katara smirks, hands on her hips, "I was going for breathtaking," and Jin laughs.

"I'm sure every man will find you breathtaking, especially in this outfit," she circles Katara and applauds Mushi's handiwork, "red really does suit you."

Katara gives her a playful shove before she begins her practice. The Madam had called in the musicians for her final run through and by the time she is finishes, her body is glistening with sweat. The dress moves and flows with her every twist and turn of her body, reminding her of her element and it suddenly makes her yearn for her bending. The anklets and small jewelry decorated tassels clanked and jingled as she moved and she found it to be quite fun listening to her rhythm play through the small items.

"What did you think?" Katara asks Jin as she pats down her face with a towel.

Jin sat there eyes wide, as if awestruck by Katara, "It was amazing before. But the dress and the jewelry just set the whole tone," she stands up and walks to Katara, "you are a seductress in this get up!"

Katara laughs as Jin pulls her in close and makes kissing noises, she tries pulling away from the Earth Kingdom girl but she is strong.

Suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat catches their attention and they turn to see Song there, arms crossed over her chest.

"Are you finished with the rehearsal room?" she asks curtly and Katara and Jin both nod quickly.

She sighs as she pushes herself off the doorframe, "You don't mind if I take it over then?"

Katara shakes her head, "No, of course not."

Song surveys Katara's body. Not hiding that she is sizing her up. Katara gathers her things along with Jin and they both bow to Song as they brush past her.

"He isn't going to choose you," Song says confidently, turning to Katara, "he doesn't need you. Not when he has me."

Katara stills, looking over her shoulder, "I will go to whomever chooses me."

"It won't be Zuko," Song sneers.

Katara spins on her heel, "Prince Zuko," she corrects Song.

"Ah," Song tilts her head, "he hasn't given you permission to drop his title?" she chuckles into her hand, "It appears I worried for nothing," she gives Katara a wink before turning on her heel and walking further into the rehearsal room.

Both Jin and Katara exit, hearing Song clap loudly, "Alright ladies! I want one run through without any issues!"

"She has some nerve!" Jin scuffed as she and Katara flopped down on Katara's bed.

Katara lay there starring up at her ceiling, "She's right, Prince Zuko will never choose me."

Jin sits up, giving Katara a serious look, "Why wouldn't he choose you?"

Katara sighs, sitting up to face Jin, "I'm nothing like her. She is adorable and small and delicate and I'm me."

Jin gives her a look as she crosses her arms, "You know you just described a child."

Katara laughs at Jin's comments and she swears at her, "What Prince Zuko needs is a woman and you are exactly that. She is insecure because you bring something to the table that she doesn't."

"What's that?" Katara asks with a little sass.

Jin claps her heads together and then points at Katara, "That right there. A challenge with a dash of sass!"

Katara laughs, pushing Jin, "You are a threat and she knows it. If she wasn't so insecure about her relations with Prince Zuko, she wouldn't have felt the need to say anything to you."

Katara nods, "You're right," Jin shrugs, "you're absolutely right!"

"Who is gonna leave every man breathless and every woman envious?" Jin asks.

Pointing to herself, Katara confidently answers, "This girl right here!"

Their night ends in fits of giggles and gossip and Katara could not be more thankful for Jin. She had told her about the tradition that takes place on a woman's first night with male royalty and Jin had mixed emotions about it. On one hand she said that sharing a bed with Prince Zuko wouldn't be so terrible, but the thought of sharing one with his father…she shuddered at the thought. She told Katara that she had to win Prince Zuko's favor no matter the cost and Katara couldn't have agreed with her more.

***~*~***

The next day was pure chaos. Harem girls were rampant everywhere. The day had been nothing but a flurry of motion. Everyone clamoring to get their hair and makeup done, all in the hopes of catching the eye of the two Royal males. Katara was shocked at how excitedly most of the women were about this evening and she decided to get ready in Jin's room, to avoid the chaos. The Madam sent a hair stylist and makeup artist to Jin's rooms to help her prepare while Jin went to collect one last accessory for Katara's outfit.

"We have less than one hour ladies!" The madam's voice booms throughout the harem, "Finish up on your final touch ups!" her hands clap, echoing and reverberating through each chamber. The harem is filled with laughing and excited chatter. Women strolling around nude and some hurrying to fit into their robes. Katara is hidden in Jin's small chamber staring down her reflection in the mirror. During practice yesterday she didn't have the time to ogle herself but today, with everything done, she felt truly exotic.

Jin walks in and gasps as she sees Katara's reflection, "Oma and Shu! I dare say," Jin comes up behind her, "you look breathtaking."

Katara turns to her and sees a small red speckled white lotus blossom in her hand, "Is that for me?"

Jin nods, "To finish the look."

Jin pokes a hair pin through the base of the flower. She pulls Katara's curly locks up on the right side of her face and pins the flower into her hair right at the junction of her temple and forehead.

"There," she pulls back, "perfect."

Katara's makeup is natural, with coal eyeliner winged out just a fraction, curled eyelashes and vermillion red stain on her lips. She pinched her cheeks to give herself a natural pink dusting.

"Katara dear?" the Madam calls out to her and Katara emerges from Jin's room.

The Madam is taken back by how different she looks and she cannot help but smile and offers her hands to Katara, which she takes in earnest.

"I think my heart just fluttered," Madam Min says amidst the chaos around them, "the whole court will be hungry for your attention."

Katara smiles, "I only care about one person tonight."

Madam Min nods her head, giving Katara's hands a squeeze, "Remember what I said," she pulls her in close, "I will come to you after your performance to tell you what decision has been made. From there, I will help you get through the night."

Katara nods, taking a deep calming breath, "Now come! We mustn't be late!"

"Jin!" Katara yells for her friend.

She pops out of her room, hurriedly throwing her sandals on, "I'm coming!" she tosses a cloak to Katara, which she promptly puts on. She didn't want any eyes on her until the moment of her performance.

***~*~***

They are led through the palace and out into a massive courtyard. A large rectangular section made of alabaster with red trim work and an elongated rectangular pool sit in the middle of this open court yard. The west end of the pool opens up to a man made channel of water where a small dock sits. There are cherry blossom trees and honeysuckle bushes decorating the exterior of the courtyard. Amongst the area are small seated tables with cushions and pillows surrounding them. Rice wine kettles and other types of liquor litter the small tables and everyone is drinking and chatting amongst themselves. Everyone that is in attendance is dressed for a court session, regal and proper and Katara hugs her cloak a little tighter.

She can see at the eastern end of the massive court yard were three large cushioned pillows, decorated with elaborate embroidery. No doubt for Fire Lord Ozai and his children. Those who were not performing were seated closest to the royal family. Katara's heart was pounding in her chest. She wondered if she'd be able to perform well enough catch the Prince's eye.

The sun was beginning to set and the girls that were Song's backup dancers began to line up on the eastern side of the courtyard, closest to the small walkway from the dockside. They left a small opening between where the walkway reached the courtyard and in their hands each one held a small instrument with gold designs painted onto the wood.

"They are called mandolin's," Jin whispers to Katara, "they sound beautiful," she could tell that she had never seen one before, "of course Song knows how to dance and play one at the same time," she scuffs and she and Katara share a chuckle.

As Song's performance was about to begin, everyone abruptly stands at the entrance of the royal family. They are all dressed in their sleek ceremonial armor, with their decorative crowns in their topknots. The Fire Lord seated himself first in the center, followed by Prince Zuko to his right and Princess Azula to his left. Katara's breath hitches when the Prince finds her in the crowd of harem girls and they maintain eye contact for a few moments.

A servant carrying a tray garners his attention, offering him a drink which he graciously accepts.

"Are you looking forward to your woman's performance Prince Zuko?" the Fire Lord asks, his voice echoing in the courtyard.

The prince nods his head, taking a sip of wine, "I am looking forward to the evenings performances," his eyes finds Katara's and she turns away, pretending to speak to Jin, but secretively hiding her blush.

A man quickly runs out into the courtyard, placing a small golden guilted stool in front of the pool before he quickly scurries off.

**[PLAY: DEEWANI MASTANI]**

With a wave of the Fire Lord's hand, the musicians begin to start. They follow the lead chanter as he begins. The drums sound and everyone's focus turns to the dancers at the other end of the courtyard. They positioned themselves to face the walkway where Katara assumes Song will appear. Katara notices that the dancers are wearing the exact same outfit as Song, but not as elaborate. Their hair is braided, covered by a sheer veil. Their jewelry matches Song's, but in a far more simplistic way and not as intricate. It is apparent that she wants all eyes on her.

As Katara is surveying the current situation, a small boat carrying Song appears at the dock. She disembarks and begins the long trek up the walkway into the courtyard. As she passes through the dancers, she maintains firm eye contact with Prince Zuko. Katara's eyes shift to him and she can see how tender his smile is for her and Katara's heart sinks. She turns back to see Song taking her seat on the stool while the other dancers form behind her in a line.

A sweet melody begins to play from her fingers, followed by the sound of small drums and woodwind instruments. As the dancers sway behind her, playing their own mandolins, their anklets chime, following the beating drums. She sweeps her leg out, leaning her body back and Katara can feel her chest tightening as Song begins to sing. Her voice is like sweet honey and she cannot help but feel drawn into her performance. She brings her right hand up, greeting Prince Zuko and he slightly bows his head in response. The smile that graces Song's lips radiates so many emotions that Katara has to avert her gaze. She remains seated for a few more moments before she swiftly stands, the dancers fall into a kneeling position behind her. She begins to move toward the royals with the dancers coming up behind her in the shape of a triangle. They stop a few yards away and she begins to dance and they mimic her moves. The drums pick up their tempo and she cannot help but flash a seductive smile at Prince Zuko. For the first time during her performance he looks away in embarrassment.

Katara is panicking at the thought of not being able to win over Prince Zuko's affection. Her mind is racing as to what she must do to get him to choose her this evening.

Song kicks either leg up in a sweeping fashion before spinning. All the while getting closer and closer to Prince Zuko. He sits mesmerized by her.

Soon she is upon him and the other dancers stay back as she comes and kneels before him, hand cupping his face gingerly. He pulls her hand away slowly and Katara can feel the her chances of succeeding slipping away as his eyes follow her back into the crowd of dancers. The dancers move outward creating a large circle around her, facing away from her and at the guests. She twirls about before posing a few times while playing her mandolin. The dancers move inward and pass her, one of them taking her mandolin from her. As she begins with the rest of her movements, Katara catches Song glance over at her in one of her turns before smirking at Katara's otherwise flush features.

Her fists ball up as she continues to watch Prince Zuko's lover parade around demanding all eyes on her.

"Your performance is much better," Jin whispers in her ear and Katara flashes her a frown, not truly believing her words at the moment.

"Come, we should get you ready," Jin stands slowly, offering Katara her hand, which she takes it without complaint.

As they quickly exit the courtyard, Katara fails to notice Prince Zuko's eyes following her and not Song.

The Fire Lord notes that his son's attention is not on his harem girl, but instead following after the Water Tribe girl.

"Perhaps you should see what she is up to my son," he states watching as Zuko's eyes shift to him momentarily.

He nods before getting up to follow Katara. Song is morbidly confused when she sees the Prince get up from his seat and leave the courtyard. She does not however fail to miss the vicious smirk on the Fire Lord's lips as he watches her with a carnal glint in his eye. Her eyes search around and she notices that Katara is missing as well. Rage fills her as she continues to move through her song, but she masks it well behind her smiles and painted face.

He finds them behind a honeysuckle bush and approaches slowly as to not startle them.

"Lady Katara?" Prince Zuko calls out as he sees her back to him, a cloak hiding her body. A woman before her seems to be applying something to her front and due to Song's musicians being so loud, Katara cannot hear him.

Jin spots him before she hears him and she bows to him, "Your majesty?" she says in a questioning tone.

Katara secures the cloak around herself and turns to see him, almost surprised, "What are you doing here?" she asks softly.

Zuko clears his throat, "The Fire Lord asked that I check on you both."

"We are just finishing up a few touches for her performance," Jin offers and Zuko nods, his eyes never leaving Katara.

He takes a deep breath, clapping his hands together, "Very well. I'll take my leave," he begins to walk away but not before saying, "good luck out there."

Katara offers him a small smile followed by her thanks and she watches as he disappears.

Song's performance is coming to a close soon, the dancers begin to move about her in a flurry of motions and Prince Zuko takes his seat in time to see the last portion of Song's dance.

"She is preparing for her performance," Prince Zuko leans over to whisper to his father.

Ozai nods, smirking at the thought of the Water Tribe girl. Though his eyes wander back to Song.

She is currently moving about in a flurry of twirls as the other dancers come to form a fire lily shape around her. They push out from her once more as she makes a final turn and sinks to the floor.

The crowd applauds Song, as do the royal family and she bows to them all. Her chest moving up and down rapidly, her eyes searching Zuko's. He offers her an apologetic smile and a nod of his head as he continues to clap for her. She returns the gesture in kind.

"Are you ready?" The Madam asks her and Katara nods, removing her cloak from her body.

The sun has set and the court yard is shrouded in darkness, save for the small braziers lit along the outer perimeter and the small candles surrounding the pool.

"When the flames die out, I'll escort you to your starting place," the Madam states and Katara smiles at her in understanding.

When the signal is given, the flames go out and suddenly the courtyard is filled with whispers and soft gasps. Katara's heart is pounding in her chest as she feels the Madam's hands leave her.

She feels a breath tickle her ear, "Good luck," accompanied by a small pat on her shoulder.

Katara takes a deep breath trying to compose herself. She quickly gets into a confident stance, all the while silently praying to any spirits listening to help her get through the performance.

**[PLAY SONG: O SAKI SAKI]**

Suddenly the music begins and with each beat of the drums, the candles and braziers are simultaneously lit.

With a sultry aura she twirls one of her skirt tassels and begins to strut down the court yard. Her body glistens as the firelight reflects against her oil slicked flesh. Unfazed by the water, she steps into the shallow pool.

The female singer's voice cuts through the music, it is distinct and her accent is thick. She draws the crowd in. Katara smirks as she twists and sways her hips, her moves sharp and precise, yet fluid like water.

As she moves further down the shallow pool she turns, flipping her hair before dropping to the floor. With a push of her legs she propels her body back. The crowd cheers for her as she scissor kicks her legs into the air and flips her body over to fall into a split. Water splashing everywhere. With grace she pulls her body upward and waves her arm, swaying her hips and gliding forward. She spins around and gyrates her hips seductively. Men whistle and cheer and she can feel the envious eyes of every woman on her.

She drops into a backbend, one hand running down her body from torso to waist before she propels her upper body forward to clap with the beat of the drums. She does this two times and the entire crowd claps with her.

Quickly she kicks her foot forward, stepping out of the pool and continues to twirl about. She comes up to the small stairs that separate her from Prince Zuko and she can see his eyes are narrowed and his jaw is tight as he watches her. A small smirk plays on her painted lips and she watches as he tenses up as she sashays his way. His hands are fisted at his knees and his back straightens as she comes up behind him.

With all the courage she can muster, Katara loops her right leg over his shoulder. His head snaps to the side and can see her scar from the shears on display. He swallows thickly as he feels a hand run down the left side of his torso. She presses into his backside and dares to look at Song, smiling devilishly at her when she feels Prince Zuko's hand on her ankle.

Pulling back swiftly she hooks her foot around his neck so she can slide down his left side and land in his lap. Her right leg still hooked over his left shoulder. His eyes widen in shock and she feels like she has him right where she wants him. Pulling herself up, she presses into him and her breath shudders when she feels his hand on her thigh. They are so close that she ghosts her lips over his before pulling away and arching herself backwards. His other hand instinctively grabs at her waist, to keep her from falling but she pushes it away and propels her right leg back towards her, successfully flipping over. She lands at the base of the stairs, her eyes never leaving Prince Zuko's. The crowd cheers and she cannot help but feel fire coursing through her veins at the sight of him.

With a twist of her feet she pulls her body up and once more falls into a backbend, this time facing Prince Zuko. She brings her upper body forward and claps her hands together with the beat of the drums.

Ozai glares pointedly at his son and Prince Zuko can feel his eyes on him. Slowly he angles his head to look at his father, bowing his head in acknowledgement before turning back to the performing seductress. Katara finishes by pulling herself up and turning to face the crowd. She falls to the floor, one leg bent and both arms stretched out. Her head tilts back so she can look at the Prince Zuko, but also so her body can be in full view. Her chest rises and falls heavily from her exhilarating dance and she cannot help but feel that familiar heat in the pit of her stomach as the Prince's darkening gaze holds her own.

Suddenly the flames in the courtyard die and she hears the rush of footsteps approaching her.

"That was amazing!" Jin whispers in her ear and before Katara can register anything, they are barreling into the palace with the rest of the harem girls behind them.

Jin quickly whisks Katara away to her chamber and closes the silk curtains.

"That was brilliant!" she howls in a whispered voice, "He couldn't take his eyes off of you!"

Katara is blushing and tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, "Do you think he liked it?"

Jin gapes at her, "Spirits Katara, I don't even like women and _I_ wanted to ravage you!"

Katara laughs at Jin's compliment, "Your confidence in my performance is greatly appreciated. I just hope it was enough."

***~*~***

When what seems like ages pass by, finally the Madam comes to her. When Katara sees her, the Madam looks morbidly worried.

"What is it? What happened? Did the Prince—"

The Madam cuts her off, "No, Zuko did not select you—"

"What?" Katara gasps, falling down to sit on the floor.

"He didn't get the opportunity to say anything! The Fire Lord challenged him to an Agni Kai for the right to claim you!"

Katara is stunned into silence, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Whoever gains victory in this Agni Kai will claim you as theirs tonight," Madam Min says in a hushed tone.

"But—"

The look Madam Min gives her is cold, effectively silencing her, "I told you, there are some rules even I cannot change. This being one of them. I warned you there would be consequences pinning the Fire Lord against the Prince. Pray that Zuko has the courage to fight his father."

"Why wouldn't he?" Katara asks, fearful of the answer.

"He didn't the last time."

Before the Madam leaves her with parting she tells her to dress in only her robe, for that is all that she will need for the evening. After Katara is prepared she is then led by the Madam to a chamber outside the harem and Katara wonders who the chamber belongs to. Fire Lord Ozai or Prince Zuko?

As they walk further into the chamber there is a decent size bathing pool, half the size in the harem and Katara releases a deep breath once the doors finally close. Adjacent is a large crimson bed with sheer silk curtains around it. She can see a balcony off to her right and she wonders if it is too late to jump from it.

"Here," the Madam pulls out a small pouch hidden in her sleeve, "this will help you get through the night."

Katara takes the pouch and opens it for further inspection, "These are lavender bath salts," the Madam begins, "with crushed ilang ilang and cnidium," Katara looks up at her confused, "they are aphrodisiacs. They will help you get…comfortable."

Katara closes the pouch and throws it to the ground, "They will make me comply!"

Madam Min grabs her by her forearms and pulls her close, "It is the only way I can protect you. If you try to fight—"

Katara rips herself away, not allowing the madam to finish. She knows that if she struggles against the Fire Lord, he would force himself on her. She understands why the Madam is giving her this pouch but she doesn't want to accept it.

Madam Min picks the pouch up and places it in Katara's hands, "It will ease your suffering, should you choose to use it," and pulls away, "no one will look at you differently for using it. We all have at one point or another."

Katara glances down at the pouch and then back at the Madam, "It is potent in the water, but also more potent when burned. The lavender will hide the scent of the ilang ilang and cnidium," she pulls out another pouch and hands it to Katara.

With that the Madam heads to the doors, opening them to see Prince Zuko walking past the chamber, his hand gripping at his side. Blood seeps from the corner of his left lip, his uniform is charred in several places and her heart crumbles. She turns back to see Katara eyeing the pouch and tears fill her eyes. Katara seems to register that she is still in the room and looks up to notice the shift in Madam Min's face. Her eyes widening in horror.

"I'm so sorry Katara," she gasps out before she forces herself from the chamber, the doors slamming behind her. The Madam falls against the wall, sobs wracking her body as she comes to understand what awaits the young Water Tribe Princess.

Katara takes a shaky breath, turning her gaze to the fire lit braziers around the room. She pulls open both pouches and notices one is ground up powder and the other is full of chunks of leaves, lavender pedals and what appear to be bits of seeds. With a heavy heart she sprinkles the powder into the pool and then takes a small amount of the aphrodisiac pieces and tosses them into the fires until she runs completely out.

She sits there for a moment, waiting for the aphrodisiacs to take affect and the Madam was right. The only scent she can smell was the lavender. Her body starts to tingle and she begins to feel slick between her legs. Embarrassed that her body is responding to the Madam's gift, Katara sheds herself of her robe and sinks into the pool, keeping her back to the entrance.

The water is warm and inviting and it only loosens her up and eases her aching muscles. She can hear her heart pounding and feel her blood pulsating in her body. As she sits there in total silence she hears the doors to the chamber open and her breath hitches.

His footsteps fall softly against the marble floor and she can hear his breathing quicken at the sight of her bare back. She moves deeper into the pool until the water reaches just above her chest. She hears his robe fall to the floor and can feel the water churning as he wades into the pool towards her. Slowly he comes up behind her and a hand suddenly wraps around her throat, applying just enough pressure to get her attention. The other grips at her hip, pulling her into him. Her chest rises and falls as she feels lips graze her ear, his heavy breath echoing around her.

After what seems like an eternity he releases her throat, bringing his hand up to cup her jaw, pulling her face to the side.

"I couldn't let him have you," she nearly collapses at the sound of Zuko's rough voice and turns just in time for his lips to crash against hers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko wins the Agni Kai and in turn, wins Katara. A few things are revealed during their night of passion and it may change the way Katara sees the Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers are such a bitch. Now, this chapter has EXTREMELY EXPLICIT MATURE CONTENT, so if that is something you are uncomfortable with, I suggest skipping down to where it says SAFE CONTENT FOR VIRGIN EYES. I do not not want to ruin someone's perfectly good virgin eyes. I would like to thank my friend who helped in writing the shameless smut you are all about to read.

***~*~***

**  
EXTREMELY EXPLICIT MATURE CONTENT  
  
**

***~*~***

"I couldn't let him have you," she nearly collapses at the sound of Zuko's rough voice and turns just in time as his lips crash against hers.

Rough hands dig into the flesh of her hips, pulling her impossibly close. She can barely breathe with the way Zuko devours her. Instinctively, Katara wraps her arms around his waist, insuring there is no space left between their bodies. She is however intrigued to find that he is still dressed from the waist down. Slowly she feels him back her up until finally she is being pressed against the wall of the pool. She feels his hands cup her face as his lips slot over hers, his tongue dancing across her bottom lip, begging for entrance.

As she gasps for air, he takes advantage of the small opening. His tongue slips into her mouth and duels with hers in a way she is not entirely prepared for. Without intention, Katara moans into the kiss, renewing Prince Zuko's vigor. She is suffocating, her body is on fire and a pulsating, delirious want aches between her legs. She never felt this with Jet. Never desired for him to completely consume her, yet with Zuko, his fire is coursing through her veins and she welcomes it,

practically begs for it.

"I want you," he whispers raggedly against her lips, forehead pressing against hers.

Katara tries to speak, but her words are so jumbled in her mind that she fears she won't convey anything right. So she nods softly, her eyes meeting his and she nearly chokes at how dark those turmeric golden orbs have become. Suddenly his hands are on the under part of her thighs and she yelps as he lifts her from the pool, sitting her on the ledge. He moves in, positioning himself between her legs while remaining in the pool. Her hands find purchase in his onyx locks and she pulls him in for a kiss as his hands dance along her thighs. Slowly, she feels as one of Zuko's hands travels up her hip, fluttering across her stomach, before dancing between her breasts to rest right above her heart. A small, abrasive push and he has her on the flat of her back. The pads of his fingers run down the length of her body and she feels her heart stop as he teases just beneath her breasts, down to the tender spots over her pelvis before coming down to the underside of her knees.

She sits up on her elbows as his hands massage the backs of her knees and he seems to be asking her for permission to continue. They hold each other's gaze for a moment before she lowers herself to the ground, flashing him a small smirk in response.

That is all it took. Suddenly she feels her legs being lifted to where her knees are hooked on either shoulder. Fingers travel further up her legs and before she can register what their destination is, she feels his breath rush up against her exposed sex. Her toes curl at his proximity and she has to keep herself from arching her lower half into his awaiting mouth. Zuko exhales, his breath is warm against her flesh and Katara cannot help but squirm in anticipation. She wants to pull him into her, to sedate the ache she feels. The longing that her body is experiencing is excruciatingly intoxicating. He is so incredibly close but not close enough. Just as she is about to move, he dives between her legs, his mouth attaching itself to the flesh of her inner thigh and she releases a shuddering breath. His lips drag along her skin, trailing searing kisses with each firm press. His breath ghosts over her sex, his lips barely grazing it as he passes over it to kiss her other thigh. Katara feels like she will burst if he doesn't touch her there. This is pure torture.

"Please—"she whimpers softly, looking at him through half lidded eyes, "please your maje—aaaaaah!" she gasps, her eyes widening as his wet tongue flicks over her clit, her lower half arching into his hungry mouth.

The grip he has on her outer thighs tighten at hearing her wanton moans. Nipping, sucking and teasing at her small bundle of nerves is enough to have her body tighten and coil around him. Slowly he brings one of his hands between Katara's legs. She is slick, dripping wet and he finally tastes her.

Her nectar is sweet like dragon fruit and it makes Zuko practically ravenous. The low, guttural moan that escapes her is doing things to him and he is trying to make this as pleasurable for her without turning into an Agni damned animal. But the aphrodisiacs in the air are making everything more difficult and more electrifying all at the same time. Slowly he teases her entrance with two fingers and instinctively, Katara rolls her hips forward, engulfing him.

Her breathing is nothing more than shattered gasps and whimpering pants. Her hands claw at nothing as her body rises off the floor, a swelling sensation churning in her lower stomach. Her thighs clench around Zuko's head as his fingers brush against that sensitive spot within her. Fingers lace in his hair as she grinds against his mouth and fingers, on the edge of her first orgasm. The pressure is building inside her, like an overrun damn and she is practically bursting at the seems. Spots cloud her vision and she cannot help the moans that slip past her lips. Trying to conceal her voice, she clamps her free hand over her mouth, effectively silencing herself.

Sensing this, Zuko pulls back, gasping for air and their eyes meet. Tears brim Katara's and Zuko cannot help but feel as wrecked as she looks. His fingers twitch inside her, making her body jerk as he hits a certain bundle of nerves and he smirks triumphantly.

Katara practically whines when his fingers leave her inner walls, but she is satisfied when he climbs out of the pool and slowly crawls up her body. His lips leaving searing imprints on her flesh.

"Don't silence yourself," he pulls her hand from her mouth, "I want to hear you," he whispers, before lowering his lips to her throat.

Katara's hands come up. One to his back, her blunt nails digging into his skin as his teeth scrape across her jaw and the other entangled in his hair, pressing him closer. She hisses when he starts to nip at the androgynous zone on her neck and feels her body loosen under his ministrations. His tongue laps over her pulse and she grinds into his body. She is on fire and he is the only thing in this moment that can douse out the flames.

"Zuko—" his name passes through her lips, whispered like a prayer and he cuts her off, lips on hers as his hand finds purchase once more between her legs. She arches into his hand, panting against his mouth heatedly. What catches her off guard is the feeling of Zuko's lips wrapping around the dusky flesh of one of her nipples. He sucks obscenely on the delegate nub, tongue circling it as it hardens from the pressure. He flicks his tongue over the top of her nipple as his teeth clamp around it with just enough force to drive her insane. Soon he pulls the nipple through his teeth before trailing down her diaphragm, sucking bruises into the skin of her ribs before she feels his heated breath over her other nipple. Zuko's actions repeat as he attacks it with the same vigor as the other.

Katara writhes under his heated touch, mind going delirious as she tries to focus simultaneously on the fingers thrusting inside of her and the skillful flicker of Zuko's tongue. She must sound pathetic and desperate, random words tumbling out of her mouth as she lets out throaty moans. A cry of ecstasy escapes her as his teeth clamp around her nipple and his tongue brushes across its sensitive head. Katara is losing her mind and her body aches with a familiar overwhelming sensation.

"Please," she sobs when he pulls her sensitive bud through his teeth, before coming up to watch her.

"Let go Katara," he whispers, eyes raking over her face.

She bites her lip, her hand grabbing onto his bicep as the other grapples at the floor beneath her. She can feel that swelling, building sensation inside her once more as she grinds her hips against him faster. Seeking that desirable friction.

The dam breaks its hold and she is flooded with an overwhelming sensation that rocks her to her core. Her body trembles beneath him as she clings to him for dear life. Her breath tickles his ear as he tucks his head into the crook of her neck. His hand slips beneath her and splays out over the small curve of her spine, bringing their lower halves closer. Her legs wrap around him instinctively and Zuko takes this moment to secure her to him and pulls them both up from the floor. They stay there for a moment, Zuko sitting on his haunches and Katara in his lap. She pulls back to look at him, her fingers toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. Her breathing is evening out slowly while her body is still sensitive from his attention. His hand comes up to move her hair away from her face and she brings her own hand up to cup his scarred cheek. Their eyes connect. Both searching one another's for something, but neither quite sure what their looking for. Zuko tentatively tilts his head to the side, pulling her hand from his face to kiss her palm. Cautiously he moves forward and Katara meets him halfway in an explosive kiss. Her legs tighten around him as she feels him lift their bodies completely off the floor and soon he is moving them to the bed.

Red silk greets her back with a cool caress as Zuko settles on top of her, one leg between hers and his arms caging her in his presence. Their tongues dual for dominance and when Katara feels like she might have the upper hand, his leg presses into her sex, effectively distracting her. She mewls in his mouth, grinding her hips down against his leg and starts to pant as that delicious ache comes rushing back.

Zuko pulls away from her slowly, giving her bottom lip a tug with his teeth. She watches him as he lifts himself up from the bed, his hands at the waistline of his trousers. He hesitates for the briefest moment as if to give Katara the opportunity to change her mind and go running back to the harem. But she doesn't. Instead she runs her hand delicately across her breast, down past her naval and teases her bud. She is shameless in this moment and she loves the way she affects him. His eyes seem to darken more, if it were even possible, but he does something she does not expect. He walks away, disappearing into a room a few feet from the bed.

Confused, Katara sits up on the bed, "Your majesty?"

She is met with nothing but silence. Quietly she slips from the bed, padding softly over to the door where Zuko disappeared. She presses her ear against it to see if she can hear what he's doing inside, but she is met with nothing but silence. Pulling back, her hand gingerly flexes over the door handle, preparing to open it when it flies away from her with force. She gasps, jumping back to see Zuko standing there with a crimson towel wrapped around his waist and a silk sash in his hand.

Zuko takes a moment to look at Katara, eyes alight like burning embers before he steps into her personal space, crowding her against the nearest wall.

He leans in, breath hot and heavy against the shell of her ear, "I thought I left you on the bed."

Katara's body liquifies at the sound of his voice. But before she can muster a response, Zuko spins her with such force that it knocks the breath from her lungs. His hands pull at her wrists, bringing them together and she feels him fastening the red sash, binding them together.

"What are you—"

"I wonder," he spins her back around, stepping between her legs, pressing a knee against her sex to rub slow, calculating circles against her bud, "will you let me have you?"

Katara exhales a breathy sigh, tossing her head back against the wall when Zuko leans in to nip at her throat. He takes a moment, dotting the skin of Katara's neck with light, teasing little pecks, just faint enough for her to feel his mouth ghosting over her skin.

"Yes. Want y-you. Ne-eed you," Katara whines.

Zuko grins, a pleasant curl folding over his lips when he leans back to look Katara in the eyes, forcing her to look back at him. She tries looking away, a deep blush blooming over her cheeks.

"Look at me," his voice commands, Katara's eyes snap back to his, "never look away."

She nods, "Yes, your majesty."

His eyes narrow a fraction, "Zuko, for when we are alone," he presses his knee harder into her, groaning hungrily when he hears the faint moan that gets tangled in the back of Katara's throat.

"Come on love, let me hear you," he leans in, whispering against her throat, "I like these sweet, breathy little moans. They're _mine."_

Katara's eyes sparkle as tiny droplets of water line her eyelids, coating her long lashes in sparkling tears, threatening to spill over her rose dusted cheeks. She doesn't know why she feels so embarrassed when Zuko calls her love but she finds herself wondering if Zuko says this sort of thing to Song when they are in the throes of passion.

What she does know is that she is desperate for his touch, "Katara," Zuko warns in a low, gruff tone when she does not respond to him.

Something within him snaps, his orbs glistening with carnality and it makes Katara's stomach churn, "Answer me," his hand cups her mandible, drawing her face close.

"They're yours, only yours!" Katara whimpers, breath hitching in the back of her throat when she greedily rolls her hips down against him, the growing pressure between her legs in need of release, "Touch me! Please!"

With urgency, Zuko pulls Katara from the wall, backing her towards the bed. The backs of her knees collide with the bed frame and Zuko crowds her space, forcing her to fall backwards into the bed. She scoots back on the silk sheets, away from Zuko, her eyes begging him to follow her. Like a tigerdillo Zuko stalks up her body. He hovers over Katara, grappling onto her body with urgency as if he can no longer will himself to resist her. The aphrodisiacs are starting to affect him and he doesn't know how much longer he can draw the pleasure out for her.

He takes a moment to admire Katara's perfect body, his hands splaying flat over the soft skin of her toned stomach, slowly gliding them up her chest, flicking her nipples with his thumbs.

"Fuck," Katara moans, throwing her head back against the bed while wrapping her legs tightly around Zuko's waist. She feels the monstrous bulge between his legs as it presses against her, the wetness between her legs sending a shiver up her spine.

Suddenly Zuko surges forward to kiss her, tenderly — like he means it — and it startles Katara a great deal, her mind going completely blank.

Zuko connects their lips, lingering for a moment as he gently nudges their noses together while they kiss, and Katara wishes she could reach up to grip his face in her hands in response.

Never has she felt more helpless than in this moment. Her body at the mercy of his hands and she knows she should hate it, but she cannot will herself to do so. Perhaps it's the effects of the aphrodisiacs in the room, but she cannot stop her body from responding to his touch. She trembles beneath the pads of his calloused fingers as they run over her sensitive flesh.

"Do you enjoy this?" Zuko asks Katara, whispering the words against the flush of her trembling lips, licking at the seam of her mouth as he circles the pad of his thumb over Katara's wet, leaking sex, stringing the cum between his fingers.

"I do," she breathes out harshly, "but I cannot take it anymore!"

Katara gasps when Zuko steps off the bed, pealing the towel from his body, his length springing free, arching up toward his ruggedly toned stomach like a dragon rearing it's head.

"Zuko," she whines shamelessly, looking up at him when he reaches down to thread his fingers through long, messy strands of brunette hair that frame her face.

"Normally, I'd want to take my time with you," Zuko explains, petting Katara's hair a little rougher, curling the loose, wavy strands around his fingers before giving them a playful tug, forcing Katara to lean forward against him.

"But I cannot wait," Zuko growls watching Katara with animalistic eyes, "I need to feel you, now."

He reaches forward to grab Katara's ankles pulling her toward the edge of the bed.

His heart is beating like a drum when he feels how hot and fiery Katara's skin is to the touch — burning against the inside of his palm. Zuko practically growls when he sees just how messy and wet Katara is between her legs; nectar pouring out of her sex and down onto the bed, with every clench she makes at the emptiness that succumbs her.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Zuko whispers, reaching to graze a finger up the back of Katara's thigh to coat his digit, bringing it up to his lips to taste just how sweet, and eager she is for him.

"You're practically dripping. I could sustain myself on the feast between your legs alone," the prince reaches between Katara's thighs to caress her clit a few times, listening to her moans and watches how she shies away from his lewd words. Her chest glistens with beads of sweat and rises and falls in a fast heated tempo.

He jostles his hips so that his length nudges against her entrance. Katara whimpers helplessly as he pushes forward, stretching her open. She's gasping breathlessly as he buries himself to the hilt within her velvety heat.

"You're so fucking tight and warm," Zuko gasps out, hands digging into her hips.

"Spirits!" Katara sobs at full volume, feeling her muscles stretch around the girth of Zuko's length as it starts to slowly pulse little by little, against the walls of her sex.

"Feels s-so good," she breathes, rotating her hips around, trying to quench her need, "move, please."

"I want to tear you apart," Zuko says, breathlessly, leaning down to kiss at her rib cage.

"Do it!" Katara sobs, damp lashes coating her cheeks with tears.

She tries rocking her hips again, feeling Zuko twitch inside of her when the head of his length nearly pops out of her slick sex before gliding all the way back in with a lewd squelch echoing all throughout the room. It makes her head spin, unsure how much longer she can take before she's making an even bigger mess of herself on the bed — especially when Zuko's lips quirk up into a snarl and he's slapping the outer part of thigh. The sting is instantaneous as it flares and blooms over the flesh, sending a shiver to run up her spine when she sobs.

"You like that, don't you?" Zuko pants, trying to keep himself together as Katara unconsciously clenches around him.

She nods her head, fervently shaking and wiggling her hips around, trying to bring him in deeper as she clenches on purpose around his girth. She is feeling an array of emotions and sensations, all of which are completely knew to her. She find it to be exhilarating. Now more than ever she believes that the aphrodisiacs the Madam supplied her with was turning her and Zuko into two beings, succumbing to their most darkest carnal desires. She would never admit it out loud, but she always fantasized what it would be like to be at another's mercy. To have all control stripped from her. To be ravaged while completely helpless. What's more, she didn't even need to voice these thoughts to Zuko. He seemed to just know. One minute he is soft and delicate with her, the next he aggressive and so exquisitely brutal that it makes her head spin. She knew all along there was a caged animal inside him. Katara could see it that day when he sparred, when they were left alone together in Mushi's quarters and even just before, when she danced for him.

She clamps down on him again, earning a grunt from deep within his chest, "You're such a fucking tease," Zuko grins wickedly, licking at his lips when he reaches to grab Katara's hips, stopping her from moving altogether.

"Stop," he commands, his voice airy and deep at the same time. If she continues, he won't be able to satisfy her like he desires.

Katara smirks, she has the upper hand, even if her hands are tied behind her back, "No," she breathes.

Zuko gives Katara's thigh another light slap, relishing in the blossoming wail that slips from her throat and into the air around them.

"Stop moving, Katara. I know you—" Katara disobeys him, continuing to rock her hips and slide herself up and down onto the swell of Zuko's length, feeling it pulse against her walls every time.

"No," she rebuts, throwing her head back against the bed to let out a throaty moan as she continues rutting her hips.

"I said stop," Zuko raises his voice.

He spreads Katara's legs, pushing her forward so he has space to crawl up onto the bed between them, roughly pulling her thighs around his waist. Katara whimpers and smirks at the change in pace, hungrily licking and biting at her bottom lip when she sees that she's successfully managed to light a fire in Zuko's inner dragon.

"You want to act like a whore?" he growls against her throat, marking her roughly before pulling his lips up to her ear, "then I'll fuck you like one," Zuko grinds harshly into her, his piercing gaze baring into Katara's soul as a warning.

She nods feverishly, wanting to see just how far she's pushed him. Her thighs tremble around him. Her body ignited by his touch and she feels like she is about to burst once more. She is sensitive, so very sensitive and it is driving her deliriously crazy and in the best way.

"But just remember, you're my whore," his hand is gripping her mandible again, drawing her face close, their breaths intermingling, "Only I get to see you like this, understood?"

His tone is unlike anything Katara has ever experienced, crippling in the way it makes her body short circuit and feel like she's going to explode under the pressure. She's never seen Zuko be so possessive. It makes her wonder what's going on inside that mind of his, aside from the obvious lust that's pumping straight toward his manhood, as it twitches against her inner thigh.

Zuko pulls himself back up, lining the head of his length up with her entrance and pushes in quickly, and then pulls his cock completely out of Katara, making her whine miserably when her hole clenches around the loss, stretched open by the intrusion.

" Zu-Zuko—"

"Katara," Zuko grinds out, the patience absent in his voice as he speaks in a deep, growly tone and wastes no time in reaching forward to grip Katara's chin in a tight hold.

"Do you understand me, or not?"

Katara nods against the grip on her chin, tilting her head down to engulf his thumb in her mouth. Her tongue swipes over the digit and she moans, "Mhmm," tasting her sweet juices on his thumb.

Zuko glances down between them, watching the latter shake like a leaf in front of him.

"Answer me, or I'm not going touch you anymore."

"Yes, Zuko. I understand," Katara licks her lips, a few beads of sweat trickle down her temple to soak a strand of hair against her face, "only yours," she squirms beneath his heated gaze and tries to shield her face, but the bindings beneath her won't budge.

Zuko smirks, grabbing Katara's hips, twisting her around to where she's laying face down. Pushing her legs up to where her lower half is in the air, while still pinning her torso to the bed. Slowly he lines himself up with her entrance again, pushing in past the ring of muscles with a sigh.

"You're cute when you're desperate, you know that?" he says, voice wavering only slightly when Katara clenches tightly around him.

Katara lets out another throaty whine, grappling at the hand against her back when she feels Zuko push all the way in, filling her to the brim with his thick, cock as it throbs against the bundle of nerves deep within, at just the perfect angle.

"Spirits yes! Zuko, please...right there!" she gasps into the silk sheets.

Zuko rocks his hips, burying himself to the hilt as he looks down between them, amazed to see Katara is ripped through a second orgasm, hips shivering against the deep, languid thrusts he makes inside her.

"Fuck, already?" he whispers out astonished, hands running down to grab at her bound wrists and hip.

"Fuh-feels good," Katara gasps, breath hitching in the back of her throat when Zuko pulls almost all the way out and then thrusts, hard, back into her body — another wave of wetness drowning Zuko's shaft.

"Spirits, you're a dream," Zuko groans, his inner beast begging him to pick up the pace when his length starts to throb, the more Katara screams out into the room.

He feels his carnal desires start to take over, his body aching badly for release as he pounds unrelenting into Katara's pliant body. Her broken moans and coos are enough to drive him over the edge, but he wants her to cum once more before he gives into his beastly nature. He wants to see her unravel beneath him.

Quickly he sears the sash that binds her wrists, freeing them from their confines. Katara quickly pulls them under her and he chokes when she uses her leverage to now grind back against him with force. Meeting him thrust for thrust. He collapses on her almost, if not for his arms keeping him up. One shifts beneath her, going straight for her clit. He feels her buck wildly against him as he finds what he's looking for, her walls clench uncontrollably around him and he knows it's only a matter of time. Slowly he sinks his teeth into the small juncture between neck and shoulder and Katara throws her head back at the sensation.

"Zu-Zuko—" she moans and his cock twitches within her.

After a few more sharp thrusts, Zuko pulls out, smirking at Katara's whimpering from the loss of him.

"Turn over," he commands, his hands aiding in twisting her body back around, "lift your leg," he says, huffing out a stream of uneven breaths as he thrusts back into her.

With every sharp thrust he makes, he's confident that he's making Katara feel as wrecked as she looks, based on the look of utter devastation that ripples over her features.

Katara does as she's told, raising one leg up over Zuko's shoulder as an arm moves to cover her face when she feels her cheeks are absolutely burning, the force of her oncoming orgasm throwing her into a tide of chagrin shame.

"Don't his yourself from me," Zuko rasps, "I want to see you," he reaches up to pry Katara's arm away from her face, eager to get a glimpse at the look of unadulterated bliss that colors her skin and paints her features bright.

He leans in, trapping her lips in a heated kiss, "It'd be a shame for that look on your face to go to waste," he whispers against her mouth.

"Zuko—" Katara whines against him, although she's unsure of what more she wants.

"Yes, Katara," his teeth mark her throat, "tell me what you need."

Zuko drives his cock in deeper, thrusting ardently inside of Katara, loving the way her body shakes around him, "Spirits, you feel so good Katara, so fucking good," he finds himself praising her again.

Katara whimpers, arms encircling him as he continues to thrust crazily inside of her.

"Mine," Zuko growls against her throat in such a low and dangerous tone of voice.

Katara cums again on the spot, body twitching against his when her back arches off the bed as Zuko continues to ram into her spot, pressing into her body, so slick and tight.

"Spirits, again?" he breathes out astonished, pulling back to look Katara in the eyes.

"Zuko, I c-can't—"

"You're okay," he breathes, leaning down to kiss at Katara's collar bone, sucking at the skin softly.

She gasps, gripping Zuko's shoulders in an instant at one particularly sharp thrust.

Zuko smirks, lips locked onto Katara's skin as he murmurs softly against her burning flesh, teeth nipping at her skin as he moves up her throat.

Katara whines affably, swallowing heavily as Zuko continues rocking his hips, sliding in and out of her sex at a slow and languid pace while teasing her neck with his teeth. She tightens her one leg on Zuko's waist, though her body quickly surrenders her hold due to how weak she is starting to feel.

Zuko places a chaste kiss to Katara's skin before moving in to capture her lips in a hurried, fiery kiss that's all tongue and teeth, no room for air as he resorts back to a brutal pace, brutally fucking inside of Katara with renewed vigor.

Katara clutches onto Zuko's face, kissing him hungrily as their tongues twirl together, Zuko licking into her mouth with a fiery growl, filling Katara's lungs.

"Zuko, please!" she gasps against his lips.

Zuko bucks his hips a few more times, reaching to place his hand over Katara's throat, nuzzling into the crook of her neck to breathe deeply, inhaling her intoxicating scent until his mind goes blank, his inner beast taking over.

His grip isn't that tight, and although Katara finds herself wishing it were firmer — perhaps suffocating her into a turbulent haze — it's enough to have her cumming a fourth time, albeit slightly overstimulated as Zuko continues to ram into that sensitive little bundle of nerves inside of her body.

"Aaaaahhh! I'm—I can't—ZUKO!"

"It's okay. Just hold onto me," Zuko mutters affectionately into the space below Katara's chin, squeezing her body in his hands whilst his cock slips past her tight muscles with little resistance, gliding against her glorious bundle of nerves to tease it with added pressure.

Katara grips onto Zuko's shoulders, letting him fuck into her like his life depends on it, feeling his muscles start to go limp with how tired he's starting to feel.

"Just let go, Katara. Let me feel you falling apart."

It doesn't take long for Zuko to take his own advice.

He huffs, the tightening grip of Katara's sex around his cock finally pulling him over the edge. She clenches around him as another wave of pleasure rocks her body and it has Zuko bursting inside of her when her hips start to shake. He paints her inner walls with his seed, mixing with her luscious, dewy nectar.

"Spirits, feel amazing," he trails kisses up her neck before claiming her lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Katara's breath is ragged as she feels Zuko twitch inside her. There are so many things she wants to say, but she cannot form the words on her tongue. So she does the one thing she knows will convey her sincerity. She leans in, capturing him in a deep, sensual kiss before rolling them over and coming to rest on top of Zuko. Her lips move down his jaw, tongue lapping at his throat and she feels his body still when she grades over his pulse. She smirks, storing that information for later use.

Slowly she slides down his body, leaving wet kisses over every patch of skin she claims, until finally she's on her knees, bent down between his legs.

His lust worn eyes watch her as her tongue swipes out over her lips, teeth biting at the corner of her mouth before she quickly engulfs his length into her wet heat.

Zuko throws his head back, his hips itching to drive up into the back of her throat. His chest rises and falls rapidly. He is over stimulated but his body begs for more of that delicious mouth wrapped around him. When he looks back at Katara, he sees her staring at him through her lashes as she bobs up and down, her tongue swirling around his shaft.

"Katara—" his voice cracks as she picks up her pace. One hand rests on his hip while the other slowly trails up his chiseled abdomen, fingers teasing at his nipple.

His mind is in a haze and any form of self restraint he had left, dies when he feels her teeth graze his cock. With a mind of their own, Zuko's hips snap up, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat and Katara gags momentarily. Her hands come to hold his hips down, but Zuko quickly grabs a fistful of her hair, causing Katara to moan around his shaft. The vibrations of her throat doing things to him.

He pulls her off his cock, allowing her to breathe for a moment. She coughs softly, licking at the cum on her lips before diving back down, sinking her mouth around him.

Zuko pants and he forces her head down while adjusting his hips and snapping them up into her inviting mouth. Katara moans and whimpers around him, lapping at their mixed juices on his length. The sheer lewdness of this whole ordeal makes her toes curl and she absentmindedly thinks that she may have a problem. But her thoughts are cut short when Zuko pulls her off of him, gripping her shoulders and pulling her up to him.

Their mouths clash and he licks into her wet cavern, tasting himself and her on Katara's lips as he lines himself up with her entrance.

"Scream for me," he pants and he snaps up into Katara harshly, watching as she arches her body away from him.

His lips clamp around one of her nipples as he fucks into her at a brutalizing pace. Her breaths are mere gasps as her lungs fail to fully fill with air and her moans reverberate off the walls. No doubt to be heard by others.

She falls forward, chest presses against his and her breath laps against his scarred ear. Her hands grip at his shoulder and the sheets and he continues to abuse her sensitive sex. She cums for the sixth time and her mind is clouded and her body spent.

Finally a few sharp thrusts later, he releases himself in her once more, followed by a few more thrusts as he rides out his orgasm, before letting his arms fall to his sides.

***~*~***

**  
SAFE CONTENT FOR VIRGIN EYES**

***~*~***

They are breathing heavily, sweaty bodies pressed against one another and Zuko finds himself absentmindedly running his fingers through her damp locks.

"How do you feel?" he asks timidly, a complete contrast to his demanding and brutal persona moments ago.

Katara pulls back, crossing her arms over his chest and rests her head there. She catches her breath before she smiles up at him.

"I feel wonderful Zuko," her cheeks are dusted pink as she averts her gaze, "I hope I was able to satisfy you."

Zuko's brows furrow, "You did more than satisfy me Katara," he chuckles, fingers brushing hair from her forehead.

After a few moments of silence, Zuko taps at Katara's arm, signally for her to get up. She rolls off of him and he quickly slides off the bed, headed for the bathing quarters a few feet away. She hears what sounds like running water, but does not get up to investigate. Her body feels like water itself and she is content curling up and falling asleep right there.

But as her mind begins to drift off into slumber, she feels her body being plucked from the bed, "Lets get you cleaned up," Zuko's voice echoes around her and she nods into his chest.

They sink into a tub of warm water and Katara sighs at how blissful it feels. Her back presses into Zuko's chest, her hands resting on his thighs. She feels him bring a cloth to her body, wiping the sweat and sex from her flesh. She cannot help but wonder if he is this generous and gentle with Song.

Now that her mind is no longer clouded by intimacy and the aphrodisiacs, there are words she has been meaning to say to him since he first kissed her.

"Thank you," she whispers, her hand tighten on his forearm as it rests offer her chest.

His lips kiss at her shoulder gingerly, "For what?"

Katara turns to face him, resting legs on either side of his hips. She takes the cloth from his hands and begins to wash him down, eyes cast away from his.

"For not letting your father have me," she breathes out, her gaze slowly rising up to meet his.

She is stilled when she sees a sincere look cross over his features and he pulls her in close, "I'd never let anyone have you."

She sobs at the tone in his voice, it is filled with genuine sincerity and possessiveness, "Why?"

"I made a vow long ago to keep you safe," he whispers, hands coming to cup her face.

She shakes her head, "You don't even know me—" she hiccups, her hands coming up to grab at his wrists.

Zuko's eyes soften as he brings her in close to him, his lips graze hers tenderly before he pushes her off him gently. He quickly exits the tub, leaving Katara in tears and walks back into the main chamber. She sighs into her hands, trying to understand what he meant. Soon he comes back into the bathing room with a small box in his hands.

"Scoot back," he whispers as he steps back into the tub, before he effectively pulls her back into his lap.

He holds the box up before her, "The first time I laid eyes on you, you were healing one of my men," Katara's eyes snap to his as she takes the box from his hands hesitantly, "just south of the Western Air Temple four years ago."

Katara's brow scrunches, "I don't recall—"

Zuko chuckles, "I never flashed my rank around. I was, still am, a soldier and I fall into the ranks with the grunts. It's where I feel most comfortable."

Katara nods slowly, her fingers clenching around the box, "That was the first time I witnessed mercy," he reaches out, tilting her chin up, "I watched as one of our greatest enemies, injured and blood thirsty, put aside her hatred to save the life of a soldier who tried to kill her. You took my breath away."

Katara narrows her eyes softly, "I couldn't let him die," she whispers, "I wasn't a monster…" her voice trails off and Zuko sighs softly.

"I then encountered you at the Battle of Shakura Forest," her breath hitches, that was the encounter where Zhao almost killed her, "and I saw your ferocity when you dueled against Zhao."

Her chest begins to tighten at his words, her hand coming to rest over her beating heart, "When you fell to him," Zuko crowds her, pressing her into the tub, arms caging her beneath him, "I knew I had to do something."

It takes her a moment to find her words, her heart beating wildly as she searches his eyes in earnest, "You?" she questions, her brows scrunching together as she pulls back from him slightly, "It was you who saved my life?" her voice is laced with doubt and without a breath between them, Zuko surges forward, taking her breath from her lungs as he kisses her with such tender passion.

Zuko pulls back slowly, resting his head against her, their noses bumping together, "I couldn't let him hurt you," he whispered and Katara begins to cry. She pulls at the nape of his neck, drawing his lips back to hers and she kisses him as her tears mix with their tangled tongues and saliva.

She is so overwhelmed with this new found knowledge. Zuko knew her from years ago and what's more, _he_ had saved her that fateful day. _He_ was the savior she had so longed to meet and thank. Her heart is bursting with new emotions that she isn't sure where she goes from this moment.

"I am indebted to you," she gasps against his lips, her body pressing close to his, "I searched for you everywhere."

Zuko's arms wrap around her, pulling her onto his lap and there, their bodies come together in a slow, passionate dance that only lovers would share with one another. They don't know what they are, except grateful to have finally found one another.

Katara searching for the soldier who saved her life and Zuko for the Warrior Princess who captured his heart on the battlefield long ago.  
  


***~*~***

After their bodies began to prune, Zuko dries them both off and wraps them in warm, dry towels. He finds the box and hands it to Katara, her eyes widening when she realizes that she had dropped it during Zuko's confession.

"I kept it, hoping that I'd one day find you again," Zuko whispers.

Katara pries the box open slowly, blue silk coming into her view, followed by a moonstone covered in the Northern Water Tribe symbol for ocean waves. She gasps and her hand comes up to contain it. A fresh new set of tears prick at her eyes and she runs her fingers delicately over the silk fabric.

"My necklace…" she looks up at Zuko to see he is closer now, his hand pulling the necklace out and setting the box aside.

"I made sure to keep it somewhere safe," he invaded her space momentarily, bringing the necklace up to her throat and fasting it securely. His hands move her hair back to wrap around her shoulders and he takes a step back to admire her.

Her hand instinctively comes up to clench at the choker, relief flooding her body as she finally feels it beneath her fingers.

"It is an honor to finally meet you again," he pulls her into him, "Princess Katara," she laughs and sobs at the same time, tucking herself into him, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. He smells of sandalwood and smoke. It's a scent she wants to be wrapped and smothered in and she presses closer to him.

"It is so nice to be able to thank you for saving my life," she kisses his neck, "Prince Zuko."

They stand there holding one another for a few moments before Zuko pulls away, "Let's go to bed."

Katara nods, taking his hand and allows him to lead her back to the bed. Zuko pulls the towels from their bodies and they both crawl in under the silk sheets. He saddles up against her back, pulling her into his chest and wraps his arms tightly around her waist.

After a tender kiss to her shoulder, he buries his nose into Katara's curls.

"Goodnight Katara," he whispers.

She tightens her hold on his forearm, "Goodnight Zuko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what did you think? 
> 
> See you guys next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara have embraced one another. They learn of their shared past and embrace a new dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I want to thank you all for the reviews and the kudos that this story has received! I hope you all continue to enjoy the story.

Clouds stretch along the night sky. Ominous in stature, like a rolling tidal wave ready to crash against the shore. The moon is shining brightly, patches of light sprinkling through the thick cloud cover above. A storm is brewing in the north. The wind whistles softly, weaving through Zuko’s onyx locks as he mulls over the most recent events in the secluded space the balcony offers.

For hours he had held Katara in his arms. He couldn’t deny that for the first time, a woman finally felt right, tucked up against him.

The way she smells of lavender, lotus and rain brings him comfort and security. But those eyes, cobalt blue and as striking as lightening, she could command him with a single look. He could see every wild, raw, unchecked emotion warring in those blue orbs of hers and he felt captivated.

The curls of her mahogany locks, down to the vivacious curves of her body had him drawn to her physically. She was a temptress, a siren in the flesh, casting her spell above water, amongst man on land. Katara was a fierce and loyal warrior. A force to be reckoned with. He had heard of the mishap at the docks. How a rogue waterbender had taken control of the dock and aided an entire group of captives in their escape. The captives log indicated that her brother was amongst the captured. Though he was never recovered during the escape.

Calloused fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose as he tries to fight the oncoming headache.

 _She chose to stay,_ he thinks to himself, _but why? What could she possibly gain from this?_

Zuko sighs, his elbows rest on the alabaster railing, his hands now cradling his face. His mind is numb from overthinking what has transpired, as well as the motives behind Princess Katara’s presence here and the timing of it all.

_I should speak with Uncle. Perhaps he kn—_

A knock at the chamber’s main door pulls him from his thoughts and a soft voice calls from the other side.

“You’re majesty?”

Zuko curses, rushing through the chamber, quickly checking to make sure Katara did not wake from the sudden noise. He sets upon the door, jerking it open as softly yet as forcefully as possible.

“Do you have any idea the hour it is?” he hisses, his eyes searching the maid servant’s face before looking over his shoulder to see Katara is still in deep slumber.

The girl bows, “Apologies your majesty, but the Fire L—”

“What does he want?” Zuko grinds out, frustrated that his father has the audacity to call upon him at this hour.

“Requests your presence in his private parlor,” she bows, head bent down, looking at his bare feet.

Zuko takes a deep breath, trying to control his anger. It isn’t the girl’s fault that his father has no respect for him nor his time. He is certain his father is still extremely ill tempered with the outcome of the Agni Kai. He smirks thinking about how Uncle Iroh’s training on the redirection of lightening had actually proven useful to him. The look on his father’s face when he sent his own lightening spiraling back at him with such sunder—he chuckles.

“Tell my father I’ll join him presently. I need to dress and check on Lady Katara before I take my leave.”

The maidservant bows, “Your majesty,” and scurries off down the hall.

Zuko strolls through the room collecting his robe, his trousers he had put on quite some time ago.

 _Pity,_ he thinks as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed, his fingers gently tracing over Katara’s cheekbone, _I was looking forward to holding you for a little while longer._

Slowly he leans over, pressing his lips to her forehead as gently as possible, as to not wake her and after a few final moments, he takes his leave.

***~*~***

The walk to his father’s parlor is uneventful. Guards and servants he comes in contact with bow and address him. He ignores them. It is too late or too early, depending on how one looks at it, for him to be gracious and dutiful. He comes up the entrance of his father’s parlor and is greeted by two elite guardsmen. Zuko’s brow raises. He scuffs in humor, knowing his father strengthened his guard after their Agni Kai, it makes him feel powerful. The guards bow to him before opening the doors, allowing him entry.

“Father?” he calls out, looking over his shoulder slightly to see the two soldiers enter in behind him and stand on either side of the doors.

Ozai strolls into the room from the balcony, his hair now down from his topknot and his robes are all discarded. He remains shirtless while wearing floor length, loose, red silk pajama pants.

He waves a whiskey glass at Zuko, before motioning him towards one of the many plush chairs in his dimly lit parlor.

“Zuko! Come, take a seat,” he kicks his feet up onto a small tea table in the center of the sitting area, “have some fire whiskey with me.”

Zuko approaches a cabinet along the northern wall of the room. He rummages around until he finds a glass and a specific whiskey that he fancies.

“You and the latest harem girl…what was her name again?” Ozai begins and Zuko’s grip on his glass tightens instinctively.

“Katara.”

“Yes, _Katara_ ,” her name on his lips is like poison to Zuko’s ear, he hates the way he draws it out, rolling it off his tongue in a sensual tone, “how was she?”

“Too early to say. The night is still young,” he begins to pour himself a drink, trying to focus himself on something small, mundane and not on his father’s inquiry.

“Surely you’ve _fucked_ her by now,” he can literally hear the predatory smirk slinking across his fathers lips as he enunciates that particular word.

Refusing to take the bait, Zuko’s eyes shift to the guards at the door momentarily before he turns on his father, whiskey bottle in one hand, full glass in the other and walks over to take a seat directly across from him.

“I see you’ve upped the security of your guard,” he voices his observation, sipping lightly on his whiskey.

Ozai’s eyes trail over to the elite soldiers in the room, “I felt a change needed to be made,” Ozai shrugs nonchalantly, “these are dangerous times we are living in.”

Zuko nods his head, he twirls his glass around, the liquor spiraling, “But the Elite Guard father? Shouldn’t they be off, oh I don’t know,” he waves his hand about, “interrogating prisoners, burning down helpless Earth Kingdom villages or something more suited for their—” he pauses for a moment, looking to the two guards who remain stoic, “unique _skill set_?”

“Protecting the sovereign of this nation demands their skill set more than any prisoner or peasant village,” Ozai spits out and Zuko merely nods, humming in response as he takes another sip.

“So,” Ozai sits up, leaning on his knees like an eager child, “How was she?”

“I don’t thi—” Zuko begins.

“Are you trying to woo her into bed with tea and poetry?” Ozai chuckles as he sips on his liquor.

Zuko adjusts himself in the chair, fixing his robe as he leans back, getting comfortable. He simply shrugs and smirks softly in response.

Getting agitated by his son’s silence, Ozai snaps, “What do you know of women’s desires?”

Brow raising in question, Zuko chuckles softly, “I know well enough.”

“Then tell me son, are the women of the Water Tribe as erotic in bed as they are in their dance?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Zuko brings his lips to his glass, “Perhaps. Shame you won’t be able to know from first hand experience.”

Ozai scowls.

“I always get what I desire.”

There it is. The unsaid threat that Zuko knew was there from the beginning. He was interested in Katara and if he had anything to say about it, he was going to have a taste. The very idea of his father getting his hands on her made his stomach churn and his heart clench. He has seen the condition of many of his father’s women. Beaten and bloody. This was the sole reason for Doctor Li’s presence at the palace in the first place. No. Zuko would not allow his father to get anywhere near her.

“Katara is mine, father, I won her by the laws of the Agni Kai. You cannot take her from me,” Zuko says with an even tone, though his smirk is mocking enough.

Ozai is staring at him with narrowed eyes, silently mulling over his son’s words.

Zuko takes this as his queue to continue, “Pity. The one law you hold above all others, finally turns against your favor.”

“Don’t get smart with me _boy_!” Ozai snaps roughly.

“Or what?” Zuko counters.

Ozai glares at him through narrowed slits as he sits up, his body oozing power and dominance. If he was trying to intimidate Zuko, it wasn’t working. The days where he feared his father were long gone. He pitied him more than anything really.

“You no longer hold power over me. Nor do you have my love or respect,” Zuko unlike his father, remains slouched back in his chair, feeling and looking relaxed.

He finishes the small amount of whiskey he has left in his glass before tipping it back and forth on the armrest. Trying to decide if he wants more or not.

Ozai cuts through his thoughts, “Yet you came back like a whimpering dog with its tail tucked between it’s legs.”

As much as this ignited something within Zuko, he wasn’t going to let it show, “I came back to reclaim what is rightfully _mine_. To show you that my loyalty to this nation has not changed. No matter how I _feel_ about you, I will always put the Fire Nation before myself and my _desires_.”

The scowl on his father’s face deepens and the satisfaction it brings Zuko is indescribable, “You think your party trick earlier warrants this level of bravery? I let you gain the upper hand _boy_.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe. The sheer look of terror in your eyes made me think otherwise,” Zuko chuckles, hardly phased by his father’s commentary.

For a few moments Ozai is silent. Biting his tongue. His eyes searching Zuko’s for any sign or hint of weakness.

Zuko slides his empty glass to his father. Waiting patiently for him to refill it. Ozai does, but instead of giving his glass back, he begins to consume the whiskey himself. A small triumphant blaze in his eyes.

Zuko chuckles at his father’s childish behavior. He sits up, leaning across the table, he takes Ozai’s now empty glass and pours himself more whiskey. Ozai glares at the audacity and disrespect. No one would dare to drink from the Fire Lord’s cup. But Zuko isn’t afraid. He brings his father’s glass to his lips, taking a sip, his eyes challenging Ozai silently.

“Still so disobedient. I thought I burned that little trait out of you years ago,” Ozai sneers, his lips curling upwards into a devilish smirk, eyes shifting to the scar on his son’s face.

“I’m not the same thirteen year old boy who cowered at your feet and begged for mercy. He died the day you scarred him.”

“It was to teach you respect!”

“It was cruel and it was wrong,” Zuko keeps his voice level. He cannot believe that after all this time, they were finally having this conversation.

Ozai pours himself more whiskey, “Children will never understand why parents do what they do,” he looks Zuko in the eye, “clearly my punishment did little to change your behavior.”

Zuko sighs, sitting up, his gaze shifts back to the guards at the door, “I do have to thank you though,” he reaches for the whiskey, “if you hadn’t of sent me off to serve in the Imperial Army, I wouldn’t be the man I am today.”

Ozai hums but scuffs softly, “And what kind of man is that exactly?”

Without missing a beat, Zuko looks at his father with dead eyes, “You know they say actions speak louder than words. I’d rather show you.”

Alarms ring loud and true in Ozai’s head as he watches his son finish the last of his whiskey. His heart hammering and his fingers itch in retaliation as Zuko stands quickly, moving away from Ozai as if to leave.

Without hesitating, Ozai takes this as his opportunity to teach Zuko one final lesson. The air begins to snap and crackle as Ozai commands the cold fire from his finger tips. His aim is directed at the center of his son’s back and all he can think about is how he will fuck the Tribeswoman in front of his son’s corpse. Without hesitation, he shoots the lightening at Zuko, but is mortified when he sees a hand appear in the midst of the cold fire and wraps itself around his fingers. Zuko’s forearm slams up against his throat and pushes him up against one of the many pillars in the room. Zuko’s other hand comes up near his head, the lightening escaping from it and is rushed toward the ceiling.

Debris falls around them and the look on Zuko’s face terrifies Ozai more than he ever thought possible. His features are calm, relaxed, almost as if he expected this from Ozai all along. Dust from the obliterated alabaster ceiling falls on Zuko’s shoulder and he scuffs.

“Oh _father_ , this is my favorite robe,” he clicks his tongue before he quickly wraps his hand around Ozai’s throat. 

The guards behind him shift and Zuko turns to give them a warning glare that stilled them in their tracks.

“Cowards!” Ozai yells, trying to force Zuko off of him.

His son is far stronger than he had imagined and he realizes the truth in his son’s words. He created this version of him.

“Their waiting to see how this will end,” Zuko turns back to him, “but you know and I know,” Zuko pulls Ozai in close, “who will fall here.”

There is a tense silence between them for a moment before Zuko pulls away. Fixing his robe and dusting himself off, he begins to walk away, but not before giving Ozai one final thing to mull on.

“Do it again and next time I won’t miss,” he grabs the bottle of whiskey from the small table, “you’d do well to remember that.”

“Is that a threat against your Fire Lord?” Ozai seethes, hand reaching for his throat.

Zuko sighs, “No, it is my promise to you, _father_.”

Ozai lurches forward, finger pointing to the door, “Get out! Get out of my sight if you know what’s good for you!”

Crossing his arms, Zuko narrows is eyes at his father, “I am not taking senseless orders from you anymore.”

“You will obey me or this defiant breath will be your last!” this causes Zuko to chuckle.

“Don’t waste my time on idle threats and frivolous nonsense. It’s unbecoming of you _father.”_

“I’m warning you—”

Zuko turns away from him, not at all phased by Ozai’s temperament. He’s over his mind games and quite frankly, the only reason he hasn’t killed his father yet is because of Uncle Iroh.

“ _All good things come to those who wait Zuko,_ ” Uncle Iroh had told him. His hands flex at his side.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m quite tired,” Zuko walks to the door.

With a single look the guards shift away from him, allowing him to exit.

He jerks the door open, pausing briefly to look back at Ozai, “Should you require my services as the Prince of the Fire Nation, I will come. Otherwise, you’d do well to stray from my company.”

He is met only with silence, so Zuko turns to leave, not before noticing a olive green cloak with gold flowers embroidered along the trim hanging next to the door. His hand itches to grab the cloak, but he keeps his his breathing steady and instead exits his father’s parlor without further thought.

***~*~***

**EXTREME EXPLICIT MATURE CONTENT**

When he arrives back to the chamber, Zuko sees that Katara is still asleep, though she is now laying face down. The sheets rest just below the curve of her back. He approaches the bed, shedding his robe and silk pants before crawling up under the sheets. Slowly, sensually, his calloused hands run up her calves and squeeze at her thighs. His lips kiss at the small of her back and gradually travel up her spine. Her body shifts under his touch, she moans in her sleep, causing Zuko to nip at her shoulder before burying his nose into her neck. He inhales deeply before he licks and sucks at that sweet spot on her neck.

Katara shifts, turning her head to face him, she mumbles incoherently, “Zu—ah—” he grinds into her softly and smirks against her flesh as she bucks back against him.

His breath tickles her ear, “May I have you?” he whispers hoarsely.

Without taking much time to think, Katara nods, her hands coming up near her head and fisting in the sheets. Zuko travels down her body, his lips and tongue painting her flesh in small red blemishes. She jerks when his tongue hits those certain sweet spots on the journey down her spine. Slowly he grasps at the back of her thighs, spreading her legs to accommodate his frame.

“Pull your legs up for me love,” he whispers against the swell of her ass cheek and Katara complies.

Suddenly, Zuko rolls over before sliding up under her, and then his lips are on her. His hands grip at her hips and Katara instinctively jerks upwards as he hits her bundle of nerves. Her head shoots back as her hands grip at his hair. Slowly, Zuko’s hands wrap around her thighs, pulling her down on him as he licks his tongue into her sweet, wet walls. Her gasps drive him forward. He wants to be the only man to have her like this and his desire to never let his father hear her throaty moans, spurs him on with renewed vigor.

As he continues to devour her, his hands roam over her taunt stomach, reaching for her breasts. Katara moans as his callous fingers twist and pull at her nipples, her hands grapple at his wrists and she cannot help but rock her sex against his tongue.

“Spirits Zuko!” she gasps out, his tongue like magic, undoing her from within.

For a few more moments, Zuko continues his assault until finally Katara is practically sobbing, falling apart under his skilled tongue.

She claws at his hair desperately, trying to pull his tongue from her sex, “Not like this—” she gasps out, throwing her head back when his tongue swirls devilishly around her clit, “Zuk—need you inside me—please!” she begs and Zuko finally moves his hands down to her thighs, pulling her back from his face.

Katara’s cheeks bloom with a fair pink blush at the sight of him. His lips glisten with her essence and his saliva as he licks them with a predatory smirk, top teeth biting into his bottom lip. Seeing him like this, squeezed between her thighs does something to her. She feels so powerful yet at his mercy all in the same breath. The duality of emotions that he makes her feel is suffocating but she is only drawn to it more, like a sea lion to a koi fish.

Her hand reaches down, brushing his sweat streaked bangs from his face. She is mesmerized by him, their eyes locking as her fingers flutter over his cheek bone, now to his lips. Her thumb anchors just below them, before slowly swiping at her essence on the underside of his bottom lip. Without breaking eye contact, Katara brings her thumb to her lips, sucking her own juices from her finger. Zuko’s eyes darken as he watches her carnal display, Katara’s tongue darting out to wet her own lips, a smirk appearing in the corner and a challenge in her eyes.

Slowly his hands grab at her waist, lifting her up with ease and slipping out from beneath her. His hands find her waist, pulling her against him as his grinds against her. His hand grabs at the sheets, tearing at the thin fabric to create a makeshift blindfold. Quickly Zuko pulls the fabric across her eyes, causing to Katara to gasp, her hand reaching up to gingerly touch at the silk.

Darkness. Darkness is the only thing she can see now. A rush of fear more intense than anything she’s felt before rushes through her body. To have her sight taken from her, to not be able to see what Zuko would do next, that alone sends another chill up her spine. Nothing like she’s felt before.

“How do you want me love?” his lips brush against the shell of her ear, causing her chest to rise and fall quickly.

As if sensing that Katara is slipping too deep into a fear based headspace, becoming fragile, Zuko wraps his arms around her smaller frame and attaches their lips together. The kiss is deep and sensual, Katara moulding her lips against Zuko’s with a relieved sigh, immediately calming down a little. She didn’t realize how much she needed this until now as she got it.

“Mhh,” she moans gently. Quietly. Zuko’s lips open against her own and close around her lower lip, tongue seeping between her own luscious lips to delve inside her mouth, teeth lightly coming to pull at her bottom lip.

Too soon it ends. Katara whimpers, wanting so badly to see Zuko in this moment, but her vision still being blocked by the silk blindfold. 

“Now, Katara,” he licks at the shell of her ear, “how shall I have you?”

Slowly Katara bends over before him, exposing herself to him, resting her upper torso against the mattress. Zuko groans hungrily.

Katara drops her head down against the bed, face flat as Zuko glides his fingers through her hair until he finally pulls his hand away. His fingertips trace down her back, over her shoulder blades before trailing down the curve of her back, reaching lower, stopping to lay flat against the swell of her cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me Katara,” he whispers out, lining the head of his cock up with her sex.

Katara lets out a sigh as she feels the tip push in, her entrance opening around the cock as it buried to the hilt. Zuko’s hips were flush against her ass.

“Fuck,” Zuko groans.

A soft whine escapes her lips as the Prince begins moving, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward, his cock gliding so well inside of her walls. His forehead drops against Katara’s back; eye’s closed.

Katara’s mind is in a foggy, delirious haze. It feels so good to feel Zuko inside of her again. There is so much pressure building in her lower region, but it is luscious and so pleasing. Zuko angles his hips a little higher, hitting that one fucking spot easily. She moans out brokenly, feeling her body twitch against Zuko as he begins to pick up the pace.  
  
“Katara, shit…,” Zuko groans, moving his hips a little faster, leaning up to sit on his haunches and grab Katara’s hips. Effectively thrusting in and as he thrust in and out of her at a quicker speed, Katara cries out as that spot is being abused.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whimpers, “Ju-uust like that—Zuko!” 

A hand finds it’s way to her hair and she yelps a moan out as a fist pulls back tightly, head ripping away from the pillow to expose her neck, to which lips immediately attached to. It is all so intense. Her g-spot being aimed at extremely well, hit with every thrust so that the pleasure coursing through her entire body in slight shocks leaves her in a daze.

Katara whimpers, “Zuko..,” wanting to raise a hand to glide against Zuko’s nape and pull him onto her neck more. She is loving the way his lips feel against her neck. She finds that this is one thing that she thoroughly enjoys and that is getting marked up by Zuko. Deep down she knows that him leaving marks on her body signified that she were owned, and even though normally that would boil her blood, right now all she can think about is the pleasure she gets from it and how it is extremely intoxicating.

She feels the hand loosen in his hair and the pleasurable pain subsiding quickly and her body falls limp against the sheets. And then the hand is wrapping around her throat, pulling her up to where her body is flush against Zuko. She registers his thumb coming up and pushing past her lips. 

Katara whines around the finger and wraps her fingers around the Zuko’s wrist, holding the hand in place so that Zuko wouldn't remove his thumb from her mouth. Oddly, it is so, so pleasing to have her mouth full with the other's finger. She doesn’t know why she is enjoying it so much, but it somehow reminds her of an anchor. It is keeping her here, tethered to him and in this moment. Her lips tighten around his thumb, walls clenching as his cock in her hole plunges in and out, thrusting so harshly that her body is moving lightly against Zuko’s in little shifts. She whines out, lips parting around his thumb before closing again and chewing softly, gentle enough so it wouldn't hurt Zuko, but hard enough so it could feel satisfying. 

Zuko pants against her ear, listening to her moans, groaning at the suction around his thumb.

"Are you enjoying yourself," he growls, “hmm?" 

Katara nods helplessly, crying at the intense pleasure that shoots throughout her body from the non-stop abuse against her sweet bundle of nerves. 

"Mhmn, mh—" her lips open around his thumb as as she cries out and her fingers began to feel weak against his wrist, dropping and resting against her sides.

Zuko’s hand moves, his thumb slipping past her lips, leaving a trail of her own saliva down her chin before gripping at her jaw, his breath fanning across her face. He is close, so close but she cannot see him, only hear and _feel_ him. Suddenly his lips were pressing against her own parted lips, not kissing, but breathing harshly. Panting.

"You're mine,” Zuko growls against her lips and Katara feels her legs weaken, but the arm he has snakes around her waist keeps her steady. Her hands grip at his bicep, holding to him for dear life. He thrusts firmly into her as if making his point clear and Katara cannot help but indulge in the pleasure he provides her.

“F-feels so good,” she whispers against Zuko’s mouth haughtily, one hand coming up behind him to reach the nape of his neck. She pushes him against her, their lips colliding, tongues twisting and twirling with one another and she can feel Zuko’s arm around her waist tighten.

After a few moments they pull away for air, lips still touching and Katara whispers softly, “Always yours,” his thrust hits her sharp, causing her breath to hitch, “only yours Zuko…only yours.”

Slowly, Zuko’s hand creeps back down to her neck, his lips panting into her ear. The pressure is intense, but not too much that it is cutting off her air supply. Something about this aggressive, animalistic side of him is quite literally doing things to her. He wasn’t cutting off her air supply, but it was a show of dominance and Katara leans back against him. She is consumed by him and this dominant aura of his and she loves it. His hand pulsates around her throat, carefully and skillfully applying more pressure, which in fact gives her a burst of pleasure.

She hears Zuko groan into her ear and feels him thrust faster again, cursing out a " _Fuck_ ," before shifting his hand and pressing it against her skin more tightly, pulling her further into him if possible.

He fucks her like that for a while, thrusting in harshly hitting all the right places so she feels sparks in her lower abdomen, shooting through her entire body. Though her sight is obscured, Katara cannot help but feel her eyes wanting to roll to the back of her head in bliss, with the hand wrapped around her throat in that dominant way she is beginning to crave. Zuko’s fingers tighten every now and then and every time they would tighten around her throat, Katara would have her lips captured by Zuko’s own. Passionately, his tongue dives into her mouth sloppily from the harsh thrusting. It all feels so good. She squirms and pushes her hips down to meet Zuko’s thrusts, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of abuse her sex is experiencing.

Katara almost cries out as Zuko pulls his hand from her throat, pressing her body back down into the mattress. She sighs in bliss as she feels the same hand dive between her legs, fingers pressing into her clit and begin to create harsh circles against the bud. She can feel that intense swelling in the pit of her stomach as her body begins to shake. She rocks and grinds back against Zuko’s cock and fingers desperately. Unconsciously she clenches around Zuko, heat rising in her core, body burning with the need to orgasm and have the incredible waves of pleasure wrack against her.

“Zu—m gonna cum—aaahh!” Katara cannot string more than a view incoherent words together, she is reduced to a babbling mess beneath his generous attention.

Suddenly, Zuko pulls out and Katara literally cries out, her hole clenching and unclenching around nothing but air. Soon his hands are on her and he twists her around to where she is now on the flat of her back and enters her with an urgent, sharp thrust.

Katara gasps at the welcomed intrusion, hands grip at the sheets of the bed when she feels her legs lifting up, calves resting on Zuko’s shoulders as he wraps his arms around her legs. In doing so, he lifts her lower body off the bed, giving him a new angle to hit her sweet spot head on and he does so in earnest.

Katara is panting wildly, her moans unrestricted and Zuko is devouring them. Her body begins to clench and unclench around him uncontrollably and he knows she is close to the edge, so very close.

“Zuko—” he parts her legs in a swift motion, letting them fall to either side of his hips and he leans forward, capturing her mouth with his, swallowing her cries whole. Tears soak through her blindfold and a few escape to run down her cheeks. As Zuko continues his assault on her mouth and sex, his thumb affectionately wipes at her tears, ridding her face of such wet blemishes.

Slowly he pulls away, keeping his forehead pressed against hers, lips grazing hers and their harsh breaths mingle in the night.

“Ple—ease,” she moans brokenly and Zuko brings a hand up under her, at the small of her back and presses her further into him. She moans loudly as Zuko continues to ram into her sweet, sensitive spot. Slowly, Katara brings herself to sit up on her forearms, pressing herself further into Zuko as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“Fu—uuuck,” that word is drawn out of her slowly as she feels her gut twist, knowing exactly what was about to follow. She licks into Zuko’s mouth for a moment longer until she feels a tidal wave crash into her. She collapses onto the bed as her body wracks with the intense orgasm, hands falling limp against the sheets.

One hand comes up to grip onto Zuko’s bicep as she feels the first wave of her orgasm wash over her, her walls pulsating and clenching uncontrollably. The second wave washes over her, leaving her breathless, hips stuttering beyond her control. The orgasms Zuko gives her thus far are so intense that it leaves her speechless, unable to breathe properly and just relish in the way her body hums in pleasure.

Zuko’s hips stutter against her ass and he too is wracked by his own intense orgasm. She hears his breath hitch as he releases himself in her and Katara cannot help the way her toes curl at the action. Zuko groans as his hips circle slowly between her legs, grinding into her. Katara whimpers softly as Zuko rides out his orgasm, pressing into her sensitive walls.

**SAFE CONTENT TO READ**

Soon Zuko stills before slowly dropping his head against Katara’s. At this moment she is still blindfolded and Zuko pulls back and begins to undo the material.

Glistening blue orbs peak out from beneath the red silk and Zuko smiles affectionately, “Hey,” he whispers softly, moving her hair from her face.

Katara blinks up at him a few times, registering her hand now wrapping around his wrist, “Hey.”

Zuko leans down to kiss her languidly a few more times before he pulls away to rest his head against her chest. Mindlessly, Katara brings her hand to weave her fingers through his hair and she feels Zuko hum in appreciation. It reverberates against her chest and she smiles softly.

They stay like this for a while. Relishing in the silence, their heavy breathing now shallow and deep and their bodies relaxed and rejuvenated once again. Katara feels Zuko shift and she groans in protest.

“I’m going to clean us up,” he kisses her temple before sliding off the bed and heads to the wash room.

Soon he’s back with a wet wash cloth and he begins to clean between her legs. She bucks into his hand, body still sensitive and over stimulated. Katara watches him with a curious gaze and she knows that there is much to learn about the mysterious Prince. He is rough but gentle, passionate and endearing. She had truly believed he would be cruel, just not as cruel as his father and yet, she was wrong.

Zuko feels her eyes on him and he looks up at her, a soft smile gracing his lips, “Did I go to hard on you?” he asks.

Katara’s heart flutters at his softness and the genuine concern lacing his tone.

She shakes her head, “No, your majesty,” she whispers out. His grip on her ankle tights a fraction as his eyes remain fixed on her.

“I told you Katara, when we are alone, you may call me Zuko,” he finishes cleaning her up and goes back to the washroom.

He returns shortly after and slides into bed next to her, pulling Katara in his arms. For a while they lay there in silence, Zuko’s fingers threading through Katara’s hair, while she draws circles into his pale chest.

Finally, after some time, Zuko speaks, “Why did you chose to stay?”

His question catches her off guard, she tilts her head up from his chest to see he is looking down at her, “You could have left when you saved Sokka and the other prisoners. But you chose to stay. Why?”

Katara looks at him with searching eyes before slowly bringing her head back down to his chest, “Why else would a pig sheep willingly walk into a dragon’s lair?” she counters.

Silence follows before she feels Zuko squeeze her to him, “You must be careful Katara,” his nose presses against her temple, “sleeping dragons are most ravenous when awakened from slumber.”

Katara nods softly, pressing into Zuko a little more, lips grazing his chest before snuggling as deep as she can into his side.

“I’m no pig sheep.”

Zuko smirks against her temple, “No, you most certainly are not.”

“Are you a dragon I should fear?” she asks softly.

She can feel his grip tighten as he chuckles softly, “I’m the most ravenous dragon you’ll encounter Katara, but I’m no threat to you,” his eyes stare up at the ceiling, “I’ll protect you from the rest of my kind.”

Katara feels like she can trust him. Her instincts told her that he was different and she’s glad that she gave in and listened. The road ahead is long and filled with the unknown, but Katara knows that Zuko will be there to protect her.

***~*~***

The sun rises in the east, light filtering into the chamber and pooling around the bed. Katara stirs when the sun hits against the lids of her eyes and she shrinks back, burrowing her head into Zuko’s chest.

“Rise and shine my little water maiden,” his voice is rough. He rolls them over, resting between Katara’s legs and begins to kiss her gently.

Katara giggles as she kisses him back, her fingers tracing along his jawline as she cradles him between her thighs.

Zuko pulls away, raising up on his hands, “I could spend an eternity nestled between your thighs woman,” he nips at her neck and Katara shudders, his lips move against her flesh, “but I cannot today.”

Katara sighs softly, feeling him pull away from her, “I suppose I must report back to the Madam,” Katara whispers softly.

“Surly she will want to make sure there are no wounds to heal,” his eyes narrow softly at that.

Katara sits up, pushing Zuko back on his haunches, “You would never hurt me,” she whispers against his lips, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

She can feel him smirk against her and they kiss for a few moments before a knock interrupts them.

“Your Majesty?” a voice calls to them and both Katara and Zuko sighs at the intrusion.

He smiles softly, tucking a few strands of hair behind her face, “I’ll be out momentarily,” he calls back and silence follows, “tonight I’ll come for you,” he whispers and gives her a few more kisses before finally collecting his things and leaving Katara alone.

***~*~***

Katara sits there, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as a smile curls at the corners. Quickly she grabs her robe and braids her hair before exiting the chamber. Quietly her bare feet pad across the alabaster floors, carrying her like lightening to doors of the harem.

Just as she reaches the door, a hand grips her hip with such force it sends pain down her side and she is forced around, her back being slammed against the doors of the harem.

Her eyes widen a fraction when she sees the dangerous glint of the Fire Lord’s electric golden orbs staring at her.

“Fire Lo—” her voice is cut off as the breath is literally knocked from her lungs. His lips crash against hers and Katara struggles against his hold. Her foot banging against the door to garner attention from someone on the other side.

Tears spill down her face as his hands pull her lower half against him. She can _feel_ him against her thigh and she is literally shaking in fear. Without her bending, she is helpless against his advances and this alone terrifies her.

“My son thinks he can have you all to himself,” the Fire Lord whispers harshly in her ear as he clamps her face between his hand, “I think we both know who is in power here,” his leg forces itself between her thighs and she tries to jerk back from his touch.

“Please, let me go—” Katara cries out through muffled cries.

He does not listen. He is going to fuck her right here and now for anyone to see. Even after everything, she could not run from him.

Footsteps echo down the corridor and once they get closer, Katara can hear the urgency in their movement, “Brother!” a baritone voice calls out, causing Ozai to jerk away from her.

Ozai’s hands grasp firmly at her forearms as he turns, “Iroh,” his tone is firm and threatening, “it’s rude to interrupt.”

The famed Dragon of the West gets closer to Katara and Ozai, his hand clasping on his younger sibling’s shoulder, effectively pulling the Fire Lord from Katara’s body.

Ozai is fuming.

“I believe this young woman is trying to prepare for the day,” Iroh states under a hushed tone, “you’ve had your fill of her. Let her bathe and relax with her sisters. Call upon her tonight if you must.”

Ozai’s jaw clenches, his gaze is murderous, but the general does not seem to be affected by his brother’s temperament.

“My dear, please,” the general gestures to the doors behind her, “go on.”

Katara fumbles with the door handle to her back, her eyes never leaving Ozai. The door gives way to her weight and she fumbles backwards into the harem.

His eyes lock with hers, “I _will_ call for you this night _girl_.”

The door slams in her face and Katara stumbles until she falls to the ground, gripping at it for dear life. Her breath is racing and her heart pounds violently in her chest.

She cries out _his_ name in fear of what is to come, “Zuko!”

“Katara?!” she barely registers Nyla screaming her name as her pulse thunders in her ears.

Hands grab at her shoulders, pulling her into Nyla’s chest, hand stroking her hair.

“What happened?” tears continue down her face, her hands bunching into the Madam’s skirts, “What did Zuko do?” her voice is laced with worry.

Katara shakes her head violently, her hands pull Nyla’s face down to her own, “Ozai,” she gasps, forehead resting against hers, “demands me.”

Nyla gasps as Katara falls into her, fear wrought and in tears.

“Spirits—” Nyla cradles Katara in her arms, “HARU!” she yells for one of her most trusted servants.

The tan Earth Kingdom lad comes running down the hall, “Mistress!” falls to his knees next both women, his hands coming up to help hold up Katara.

“Get Prince Zuko, now!” Haru quickly bolts for the doors, “Hurry!” the Madam helps after him as he passes through the harem’s exit.

***~*~***

Zuko is in the midst of a war meeting with the admirals off the eastern fleet when the doors slam open and Haru, the Madam’s most trusted servant, barges in unannounced.

“What is this disrespectful display?” Admiral Chan growls out as Haru approaches Zuko, forgetting his place.

Prince Zuko holds his hand up, silencing the admiral and looks to Haru with a firm gaze, “You dare interrupt my meeting with the Admirals?”

Haru bows to the Prince abruptly, “The Madam urgently requests your presence, your highness!”

Zuko’s brow furrows together, suddenly Katara comes to the forefront of his mind, “What is it?”

Haru looks around the room, eyes flitting between the faces of the admirals before they settle back on the Prince, “She did not say, but I believe it has something to do with the Lady—”

Zuko abruptly stands, not letting Haru finish, “Admirals, this meeting will reconvene in an hour,” he storms from the war room, not allowing them a moment to speak up in disagreement.

***~*~***

“What happened?” Zuko’s harsh voice breaches the darkness of her mind. She can feel his presence near and her eyes flutter open softly. She sees him on the other side of her silk screen bed curtain and she wishes to reach for him. But her body is so exhausted.

“I found her on the floor of the entrance, screaming your name,” the Madam speaks softly, “your father—”

“ _What did he do?”_ Zuko seethes, fire ignites around his clenched fists.

“Tried to claim me,” Katara whispers out.

Zuko snaps to look at Katara, his eyes wide and wild. He parts the screen and dives into her bed, only to pull her into his arms.

“Katara,” he whispers into her hair, holding her tightly to him, “I never should have left you.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she cries, hands curling into the tunic beneath his armor.

Zuko presses a kiss to her forehead, before abruptly pulling away, “I will deal with him,” he storms past the Madam and down the hall, “transfer all of Lady Katara’s things to my chambers, now!”

The Madam runs after the Prince, “Where are you going?” she grapples at his arm.

Zuko jerks from her touch, “ _To do what I should have done long ago!_ ” flames lick at his tongue as he barges through the harem doors.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions build. There are schemes afoot and it is up for both Zuko and Katara to weave through the intricate webs of deceit. But will they come out unscathed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes a very dark turn. If you are triggered by mentions or graphic scenes of rape, please, do not read where I have marked it as Explicit Content. I do not in any way condone this behavior. It is for the sake of the story and the story line that this happens. It is not something that I glorify and as a victim of rape myself, I tried to be as delicate as I could without taking away from the story itself. But as I said, if this triggers you, please do not read. If you are a victim and you need someone to talk to, you are always welcome to message me and I will be here to listen. Sending good vibes and love to you all!

In a raging fury, Zuko storms through the palace halls, winding through corridors in search of his father.

_Was I not clear this morning or does he just enjoy provoking me?_

As he rounds a corner that leads to the gardens, Zuko is intercepted by his Uncle, with tea in hand and a warning glint in his eye.

“Just the young man I was looking for,” Iroh’s tone is warm and welcoming as always.

Zuko tries to move around Iroh and his tea tray, but halts when he feels Iroh’s hand upon his shoulder.

“Uncle—” his tone is biting and filled with warning, but Iroh simply smiles and pulls at him to follow him deeper into the gardens. Zuko knows it’s best to obey.

“Come now nephew. We haven’t had tea together in _ages_!”

With a deadpan look on his face, Zuko sits himself across from Iroh at the small tea table, “We literally had tea yesterday.”

“Like I said, it’s been too long,” Iroh begins to pour them both steaming hot cups of tea. As he does this, Zuko notices the small snacks that assort the tray and he sighs. Whenever his Uncle brings snacks and an extra pouch of tea, he knows they are going to have one of of his infamously long talks.

Iroh hands him his tea and he begins to sip on his own, his gaze firmly set on Zuko over the rim of his glass. Zuko stares back, holding his tea at chest level, but sighs as he puts the cup down.

“What is it?” he asks.

Iroh shakes his head, “Can’t I spend quality time with you for absolutely no reason at all?”

Zuko’s brow quirks up, “Yes. But I have a feeling this instance isn’t for no reason Uncle.”

Iroh hums in response and a smile splays across his lips, “You may be right nephew.”

“Of course I’m right,” Zuko scuffs, folding his arms over his chest with an annoyed furrow of his brow.

Iroh smiles, “What makes you so certain?”

Zuko leans in, close enough that only Iroh can hear his next words, “Any time I contemplate homicide, you’re always there to talk me out of it,” his hand gestures to the tray between them, “bribing me with tea and treats.”

Iroh looks abashed, “Come now nephew, I am above petty bribery.”

Leaning back, Zuko crosses his arms once more, “No. You’re not,” his eyes narrow at Iroh.

That earns him a chuckle.

Zuko studies his Uncle for a moment in silence, teeth gnawing at the inner corner of his lips. He wonders if Iroh knew what Ozai had done to Katara this morning.

“You did her no justice Zuko,” Iroh’s voice broke him from his trance.

“What?” he questioned.

Iroh leaned back, nibbling on a rice ball, “Lady Katara.”

Zuko leans forward slightly, “What about the Lady Katara?”

“Your description paled in comparison to her true beauty, nephew,” Iroh finishes.

Zuko inclines his head. So he has seen Katara. Question is when.

“I told you my words didn’t do her justice,” Zuko shrugs, finally taking his tea and sipping from the cup.

“You need to be careful nephew,” Iroh warns him softly, “I know your father crossed the line, but you need to remember why we are here.”

Zuko’s grip on his cup tighten, he can hear the porcelain cracking under the pressure.

“I do not condone his actions. I never have,” Iroh’s eyes shift involuntarily to Zuko’s scarred eye and he lets out a small huff, “we cannot jeopardize everything we’ve worked towards. Lady Katara was spooked. But it isn’t worth killing him over.”

Zuko’s cup shatters in his hands, Fire bursting through the cracks, “How can you say that!” he demands, his free hand slamming onto the table.

“Remember your breathing Zuko,” Iroh seems entirely unphased by Zuko’s temperament.

In all honesty, Iroh should be use to it after spending all these years together.

“He tried to force himself on her Uncle,” Zuko hisses softly and Iroh nods.

“I crossed paths with them this morning before it could go any further.”

Zuko scuffs, “What would have happened if you hadn’t stopped him when you did?”

Iroh settles his gaze firmly on Zuko, “We would be having an entirely different conversation if that were the case.”

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing out a breath of air, “You want me to just—” another deep breath, “ignore it?”

“I want you to be cautious nephew. We both have had our feet to the hot coals since our return to the palace,” Iroh begins to pour himself more tea, “we cannot afford any unwanted attention.”

Zuko clenches and unclenches his fist. Over and over again. He tries to see the reason in Iroh’s words, but the constant thought of his father trying to harm Katara is playing over and over again in his head and it’s driving him mad with rage. He knows his Uncle is right and that he needs to get it together but it is so difficult to quell the anger.

“No harm will befall Princess Katara,” at the mention of her name Zuko’s eyes snap to Iroh’s, “should you distance yourself from her, yet remain her shadow.”

Zuko’s brow furrows, “What?”

Iroh sighs, setting his cup down, “You are engaged to be married to the Lady Mai and you have Song to warm your bed—”

“Uncle!” Zuko snaps harshly, his hand slamming against the table.

“I think if you paid less attention to Katara and focus on the other two women in your life—”

“Do you hear what you’re saying? I’d be handing her over to father on a golden platter!” Zuko seethes.

Iroh’s gaze is unwavering and his expression is unreadable, “This is war Zuko. In times of war, we all know that there are sacrifices that must be made. She knew the consequences of her actions!”

“Uncle—”

“Give her the credit she deserves,” Iroh hisses across the table, “Princess Katara is a warrior and a damn good one. She will survive this. Acting this way only mocks the sacrifice she’s making.”

With that, Iroh stands and proceeds to exit the gardens, leaving behind a very flustered and annoyed Prince Zuko. His breathing is labored and his blood is boiling. With what little restraint he has left, Zuko flips the table before storming off back to the harem.

***~*~***

“There is no need to move Lady Katara’s things,” Zuko’s unannounced presence startles the Madam as she sits quietly in her office writing in her books.

“Spirits! You gave me such a fright!” her hand clutches at her chest, her eyes wild with fear.

Zuko bows to her briefly before turning to leave.

“May I ask what changed your mind?”

Zuko looks back at her, his eyes narrow softly, “Uncle had to remind me of my place,” with that he turns to leave, “have Song brought to my rooms this evening.”

The Madam nods softly, watching as Zuko walks away in silence. Her hand clenches around the quill as her other hand slams on the table.

_That old fool! What does he think he’s doing?_

***~*~***

Zuko makes his way back to the war chamber just in time to see the admirals gathering together.

“Gentlemen, apologies for the intrusion earlier,” he says as he walks past them with brisk determination.

Admiral Zei scuffs, “What was the emergency?”

Zuko takes his place at the head of the table, his eyes narrowing as he links his hands together, “A private matter that is of no concern to you, Admiral Zei,” his tone leaving no room for discussion.

A few throats clear softly in the midst of the tension filling the room and Zuko finally tears his eyes away from the Admiral before looking to the others.

“Shall we continue gentlemen?”

Silence follows and Zuko’s already foul mood is turning more sour by the minute. He begins to massage his temples as he waits for one of them to start speaking.

_Fucking old pretentious bastards._

“Admiral Shinu, your report if you will.”

“Prince Zuko,” he stands, bowing before he makes his way to the large map, “we’ve been getting an increasing number of reports of rebel attacks on our supply route in the New Gaipan providence.”

Zuko nods, his eyes surveying the map, “Our soldiers in the area have scoured the nearby forests and cannot locate the rebels’ base of operations.”

 _Their in the trees you dolt_.

“What areas have been surveyed thus far, Admiral Shinu?”

The Admiral points to the map, “The southern quadrant and along the eastern bank of the Gaipan River, your majesty.”

Zuko nods, lifting his arms up to rest his elbows on the table. His entwined fingers serve as a resting point for his chin as he clicks his tongue for a moment.

“Have them survey the eastern quadrant, as well as the western bank of the river. The rebels may be traveling great distances to cut off the supply chain,” Zuko instructs.

“Of course Prince Zuko,” he bows and quickly returns to his seat, scribbling down his orders.

“Next?”

A throat clears and a chair screeches against the marble flooring, it’s loud and obnoxious tone shattering the silence. This alone causes Zuko to lethargically shift his eyes to the one making all the ruckus.

“ _Spirits Zhao_ , must you be so damn loud?” Zuko hisses in annoyance.

Zhao scowls at him before bowing quickly, “Apologies your majesty,” his voice is laced with a hint of mockery and Zuko’s eyes narrow further.

“Go on then,” Zuko waives him off, “what is it?”

“I request to be granted a small surveying group to accompany me into the Si Wong Desert.”

Zuko perks up at this, “Whatever for?”

Zhao straightens himself under Zuko’s scrutinizing eye, “There is a library that is said to contain a vast amount of knowle—”

“You want to waste time and man power scouring a desert to find a library?” Admiral Wong screeches.

Zhao’s nostrils flare as his eyes widen in rage, “Not just _any_ library, but _the_ library!”

“What nonsense is this?” Admiral Kan boasts.

Murmurs surround the table and Zuko is getting agitated. Quite frankly the sound of Zhao’s voice alone drives him insane. But the back and forth bickering and chatter is making it worse.

“Enough!” Zuko’s hands slam against the table, silencing everyone effectively.

His eyes pierce into the eyes of each individual before they finally rest on Zhao, “This library you speak of, what is so special about it that you would have me grant man power and resources to find it?”

There is a glint of hope and excitement in Zhao’s eyes and it makes Zuko uncomfortable, “As I was saying it contains a vast collection of wisdom—”

“As all libraries do…” Zuko cuts him off, “your point?”

“It catalogs knowledge on every nation!” Zhao hisses in irritation.

All heads perk up at this, even Zuko’s, “What do you mean?” Admiral Kan inquires.

Zuko’s eyes shift to him before shifting back to Zhao, “I mean that there is a wealth of knowledge about our enemies that is just _sitting_ there in the middle of the damn desert and there is no one to keep us from it! Imagine the secrets we could uncover that would effectively force the other nations beneath the Fire Nation’s heel!”

Murmurs float around the room amongst the admirals and Zuko finds his scowl deepening, “How many men would you require?”

Zhao’s eyes look as if they are about to fall out of his skull, Zuko doesn’t believe he can widen them any further, “Half a dozen men or so,” he replies quickly.

“Only half a dozen?”

Zhao nods furiously, “It will not require much my Prince,” he remarks matter of factly, “we’d only need a month’s time, two at most.”

Slowly Zuko leans back into his chair, head leaning against his hand as his arm rests on the arm of the chair, “Two months in total for this little excursion and six men, not including yourself…” he chews on the idea for a moment, enjoying how Zhao squirms under his meticulous gaze, “I will table the proposal for now—”

Zhao slams his hand on the table, cutting him off, “My lord be reasonable!”

“—and will bring it before the Council of Agni and the Fire Lord,” he rises, hands pressing firmly into the table, “and should you dare interrupt me again, I’ll burn that tongue you love to wag so much, to fucking cinders! Do you understand Zhao!” Zuko snaps, fire searing into the table beneath his palms.

Zhao bows, “I do not mean to off—”

Zuko rips his hands away from the table, fire bursting from his fists as they clench, “Your very breath is offensive Admiral Zhao! Why my father tolerates such a sad excuse of a man, I will never know. But whilst you are in my presence, you will act with the modesty and decorum that your station demands,” Zhao bows again, this time, staying bent at the waist, “and you will show me the respect I deserve.”

At this Zhao scuffs softly, thinking Zuko is too hard of hearing to notice it, but he is so very wrong when a hand grabs hold of his collar and forces him upright.

“Do you have something you wish to say?”

Zuko’s bunched up fist is pressing into his throat, his teeth grind together trying to bite his tongue, “You haven’t earned respect—” he gasps out.

With blind fury, Zuko kicks Zhao’s legs from under him and throws him down on the table. The other Admirals watch with wide eyes as the Prince wraps his hand around Zhao’s throat, leering over him with a poisonous look.

“What was that?”

“Your own father scarred you for being weak—” Zuko’s grip tightens and Zhao claws at his hand, “banished you to the military—” he gasps again and this time tries to kick Zuko off, but only ends up kicking his thigh, “you’re pathetic and that scar is a reminder of your failure as a Prince of the Fire Nation!”

Zuko pulls Zhao up from the table, pulling him in close, “Maybe you’d like one to match.”

Even though his breathing is labored and Zuko is effectively cutting off his air supply, Zhao smirks at the Prince, egging him on, “Is that a challenge, _my Prince_?”

Zuko’s face is wrought with rage and he slams Zhao back down.

“Ag-gni Kai-i,” Zhao gasps, his hands frantically clawing at Zuko’s.

With a snap of his fingers, fire erupts from Zuko’s hand, “I don’t think that will do Zhao,” he looks at him darkly, “you’re not someone who’d learn his lesson from a simple brawl,” the fire is searing, hissing and crackling as he brings it closer to Zhao’s face.

The man begins to struggle furiously against Zuko’s hold and it takes all of his strength to keep him pinned to the table, “I think a more direct, hands on approach will get my meaning across,” with a quick move of his arm, Zuko’s palm engulfs the upper right half of Zhao’s face and the sound of searing flesh can be heard.

His struggles become intense as his flesh cooks beneath Zuko’s palm. The smell of char and decay fill the air and the other Admirals sit there stoically. They watch as the Prince enacts his punishment on Zhao and show little to no remorse at all. His screams reverberate off the walls of the war room and it only angers Zuko further.

Finally Zuko pulls his hand away from Zhao’s scorched flesh. His hand reaches out to grip his mandible and he jerks Zhao’s face to the side to eye his handiwork a bit more.

“Shame,” he pushes Zhao’s face away, “a few more moments and you would have lost your eyesight,” Zuko pulls the small handkerchief out from beneath Zhao’s breast plate and begins to wipe his hand clean of the blood and other bodily fluids. His eyes turn to the other Admirals in the room, his gaze commanding their attention.

“Is there anything else you gentlemen would like to discuss?”

Silence suffocates the air, even Zhao’s whimpering is drowned out by it.

“Very well,” he pulls himself away from Zhao and maneuvers around the table, making his way to the exit.

As he walks out of the war room, his voice echoes behind him, “Get someone to clean that mess up.”

“Right away your majesty!” a guard responds to Zuko’s retreating form.

The Admirals exchange a few knowing glances amongst themselves before watching the Prince’s retreating form.

“It seems Prince Zuko’s time in the military did him some good after all,” Admiral Zei comments as he moves to stand.

The other men in the group murmur in agreement and for a moment all eyes shift to the man curled into himself groping at his face.

Admiral Wong pats Zhao’s shoulder abrasively, “Prince Zuko showed you mercy,” his hand squeezes at Zhao’s shoulder making him hiss in pain, “you’d be wise not to tempt him into another altercation.”

With that, the Admirals file out of the war room as guards rush in to aid Zhao, carrying out Prince Zuko’s order.

***~*~***

“What!” Ozai erupts from his place atop the thrown of fire.

Doctor Li bows swiftly, making sure to keep her gaze down to avoid eye contact with the Fire Lord, “I have stabilized Admiral Zhao’s condition, but he will be out of commission for a few days at most, your majesty.”

Ozai is beyond furious, “What was Prince Zuko thinking!”

A dark chuckle emits from behind Ozai, “Is there something you find _amusing_ Azula?” he turns to her, dismissing Doctor Li.

Slowly Azula removes her hand from her painted lips, flicking a strand of hair from her face, “I find it amusing how your mood shifts with poor little Zuzu.”

Ozai’s lips curl into a snarl, “Whatever do you mean daughter?”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Azula stands from her place next to her father’s throne, “You hate Zuko because you think him weak,” she descends the stairs, “and now you’re furious with him for demonstrating his power and strength.”

Golden eyes watch her meticulously, “It seems that no matter what Zuzu does, you’re always going to find a flaw.”

“He should have challenged Zhao to an Agni Kai,” Ozai spits out.

“Why?”

“That would have been the honorable way of teaching that little shit a lesson!” Ozai snaps, the wall of flames behind the throne flare up.

Azula can only sigh, “Someone like Zhao wouldn’t have learned anything from losing an Agni Kai,” suddenly she finds great interest in her manicured nails, “I would have done the same as Zuzu.”

Ozai eyes his daughter a little more closely, “There is no honor in that.”

With a shrug of her shoulders, Azula turns and makes her way to the exit, “Neither was challenging a thirteen year old boy, but that didn’t stop you, did it father?”

***~*~***

“Zuko, you promised you’d spend the afternoon with me…” a monotonous voice drones on in the most pathetic of ways.

Sighing, Zuko extends his arm out to his fiancé, which she takes hold of quite greedily.

“Now was that so difficult?”

He casts her a look from the corner of his eye as he walks them down the lone corridor, “I’m not in a sociable mood today Mai. Perhaps you should entertain yourself with Ty Lee’s company.”

Delicate fingers squeeze into his bicep, “I don’t mind. Besides, I find you quite handsome when you’re all broody.”

He huffs at that, “You have strange tastes woman.”

“Only when it comes to you,” she smiles softly, the action bothering Zuko more than necessary.

His hand covers hers as they continue to walk together. Their time is filled with mindless chatter and Zuko tries his best to stay focused. He wishes ardently that he loved Mai. It would make a lot of things so much easier, but he does not.

There is still the matter of Song and then there is Katara. A sigh escapes him involuntarily and Mai catches it.

“What’s the matter Zuko?” she asks him, her fingers dig into his bicep a little more.

 _It isn’t your voice I want to hear speak my name_.

“I told you,” he pulls away slightly, “I’m in a foul mood Mai.”

Her eyes narrow before she pushes her body into his a little more, closing the distance between them, “Does it have to do with Zhao?”

Zuko’s jaw clenches at her inquiry, “That didn’t take long.”

Mai chuckles softly, nudging him with her shoulder, “Everyone heard about it minutes after it happened,” she waves her hand around, “word travels fast in the courts.”

“I’ve always hated court gossip.”

They make their way into the gardens and continue to talk idly about their day or more importantly about their upcoming wedding preparations.

Zuko knows he has to find a way to end things with Mai. He doesn’t love her and he never will. To trap her in a loveless marriage would be disadvantageous for her and quite frankly unfair. Mai deserves better. She deserves a man who will give her the world. Zuko isn’t that man.

As their stroll comes to a close with the setting of the sun, Zuko escorts Mai to her rooms, where they chat a few more moments in front of her doors.

“Sleep well Mai,” he gives her a curt bow of his head and doesn’t give her time to say much else.

As he walks away, he hears her soft murmur behind him, “Goodnight, my love.”

He doesn’t acknowledge it. He can’t. To do so would be lying to her and himself. Truth be told, his heart was stolen many years ago, by the girl with eyes like rain. This is a truth he has kept hidden. Should his feelings for Katara ever be exposed—

“ _Zuzu_!”

A scowl quickly appears as soon as that abomination of a nickname flies through the air. He doesn’t have to turn around to know who owns the sing song voice, laced with mockery.

He continues to move down the hall, “What do you want Azula?”

Zuko is not in the mood for his sister’s manipulative games right now. His walk is much brisker now that she’s around.

“I just came to congratulate you,” she follows close behind, “I heard you put Zhao in his place.”

She chuckles and it sounds so maniacal. He wonders if this is how he came across to the Admirals earlier today.

 _Shit. I need to be meditating more_.

“More accurately, I heard you burned your lesson right across that monkey face of his,” at this Zuko stops and turns to Azula and is unsettled but does not show it.

Her crimson tainted lips are curled into a vicious snarl and her eyes though narrowed, are alive and wild with lust for carnage.

He sighs, “I lost control of my anger,” he turns and begins to walk away, “it won’t happen again.”

“Father is _furious_ ,” Azula keeps pace with him and it annoys Zuko.

“I could care less about father—”

Suddenly he is thrown up against the wall, his little sister pinning him there by his throat. The shock takes over him quickly at her speed and agility, but it is quickly replaced with mild annoyance.

“Careful _Zuzu_ , father doesn’t take kindly to disloyalty,” she hisses in his face.

Zuko grunts before he twists her wrist, removing her fingers from his throat and pulls her toward him only to move aside swiftly and slam her into the wall. His hand presses against the back of her head and his knee digs into the back of her thigh.

“Careful _Zula_ ,” she struggles against him at the mention of her childhood name, “I’m not the same little Zuzu you can play your little games with.”

“Clearly,” she says with an unamused tone, before twisting out of his hold.

She straightens her armor and adjusts her hair as Zuko begins to walk away, “Just remember, when you make a move against him, he is already making two against you, _Zuzu_.”

Zuko looks over his shoulder at her retreating form. He mulls over her words. Quite honestly, what she says does little to surprise him. Their father has always been a selfish man. Takes whatever he wants. Consequences be damned.

It is late in the evening and he knows there are other things he should be doing. But he needs to extinguish some of this pent up rage before he ends up hurting someone else.

_Zhao deserved what he got. But I cannot let my emotions over my situation with Katara cloud my judgement and hurt others._

With that thought alone, Zuko decides that it is better to go expel his energy in a spar.

***~*~***

“What do you mean? How could he change his mind?” Katara snaps, slamming her tea cup down onto the table.

The Madam’s eyes shift down to the tea, watching it bubble and churn, “Katara, calm down.”

“How can you say that!” Katara swipes her hand out to her side as she stands and the tea goes flying.

Both women’s eyes go wide as they look to see the tea splattered across the wall of the Madam’s office and then back to the lone cup sitting there perfectly still and empty.

“How—” Katara starts.

In an instant, Nyla bolts around her desk, hand snatching ahold of Katara’s wrist and pulls Katara against her.

“Do _not_ do that again,” she hisses lowly in Katara’s face, “or it will be our heads!”

Katara’s eyes widen, “When—”

Nyla shoves Katara in her seat with force before she huffs, straightening out her tunic, “The first day we met was the _last_ day you had herbs in your tea that affected your _bending_ ,” Nyla whispers out harshly as she walks around her desk and takes a seat.

Experimentally, Katara wiggles her fingers and soon the tea is pulling from the wall, floating in small bubbles. A rush of adrenaline courses through her—

“— _Katara_ ,” the Madam hisses and with a flick of Katara’s wrist, the tea is tossed into a nearby plant pot.

Katara flashes her a sheepish smile, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She is unable to contain her excitement at this new found progress. At least _one_ thing is going for her.

“I didn’t have the chance to. You’re always being monitored—”

Katara blinks at her in confusion, “Who is watching me?” she asks, leaning toward the Madam with narrowed eyes.

Nyla nods her head toward the door, “That young guard that’s always lurking about,” she leans back in her chair, grabbing her teacup in the process, “he is Commander Nikko of the Fire Lord’s Elite Guard.”

“And why is he watching me?”

Pale golden orbs narrow at her, “I wonder why the Fire Lord would want such a high profile prisoner under surveillance,” her words are dripping with sarcasm and Katara huffs softly, crossing her arms and leaning back into her chair.

“So please, for the love of the spirits, do try to contain this little secret,” Nyla sips on her tea and Katara nods.

Her mind wanders back to their original discussion and she returns her gaze back to the Madam, “Why did he change his mind?”

“I don’t think he did so willingly.”

“Meaning?” Katara pushes.

Nyla sighs, setting her teacup down, “Prince Zuko said that he had spoken with General Iroh and was reminded of his place,” she waves her hand about, “whatever in Agni’s name that means.”

Katara’s brow scrunches together, “So does this mean the Fire Lord may now call upon me?”

“No,” Nyla shakes her head, “the harem must honor the terms of the Agni Kai. You are not to be touched by any man other than Prince Zuko.”

Katara sits there for a moment mulling over the Madam’s words. She doesn’t know why the idea of Zuko not wanting her suddenly sits differently with her. The news should elate her, but it doesn’t and that bothers her more than anything.

_It’s for the best. She rationalizes to herself. He is just a distraction and still the **enemy**._

“If Prince Zuko will not have me, then I can dedicate more of my time to research in the library,” Katara rationalizes.

“Amongst your other studies,” Nyla interjects, “whilst you’re here, you’ll still need to follow the rules of any other concubine behind these doors.”

Katara pouts dejectedly, “If I must.”

Nyla smiles softly, “You must.”

***~*~***

After the conversation with the Madam, Katara decides to take an evening stroll. She passes by Jin’s room and pokes her head in to see if she would like to accompany her. Alas the Earth Kingdom girl is fast asleep. Quickly Katara runs to her room to grab her slippers and her robe. It is a tad chilly and she is only in a very thin silk night gown. The slits rise high up to her hips and she does not feel like exposing her body more than necessary. After securing her robe around herself, Katara proceeds to make her way out of the harem.

As she walks through the doors she spots a young man, Haru she believes, speaking to one of the soldiers just beyond the harem’s entrance.

Emerald eyes sweep in her direction, taking in her form. Haru whispers something to the soldier and suddenly she is met with a steely gaze. Katara offers both men a curt nod of her head. As she begins to turn, she notices the soldier pats Haru on the shoulder before nodding his head toward the opposite end of the corridor. Katara’s brows scrunch together but pays it little mind as Haru bolts away.

A smirk curls into the corner of her mouth as she watches the lone soldier keep a healthy distance, but follow her nonetheless.

_Commander Nikko, I presume._

After a few minutes of aimlessly strolling around the palace, Katara finds herself in a small but lavish garden. Creeping vines crawl up the red alabaster columns and walls of the palace that wrap around the garden. Wild honeysuckle bushes litter the grounds, a small pond sits in the center surrounded by wild flowers and creeping vines. Small coy fish swim lethargically around in circles as small candles float atop the waters surface. It is breathtaking and seemingly empty.

With a glance over her shoulder, Katara notices her Fire Nation shadow is but a few paces behind her and she decides to make her way to the pond.

The commander watches as she begins to walk into the pool of water and he decides that his eyes should not witness anything further. The gardens appear to be empty and there is only one way in and out. So he turns from the scene, hands clasped behind his back and his eyes fixed forward on the corridor ahead.

Katara huffs slightly when she sees the commander’s back is to her, but proceeds to walk into the pond anyway. She wishes to play with her waterbending. To reconnect with her element, but she can’t quite do that with a brooding commander lurking about. She yearns for a distraction. Something. Anything that would take him away from her side, if only for a few moments. But for now, she’ll have to do with submerging herself into the shallow pond and revel in the feel of her element as it heals her soul.

***~*~***

“Rraaaaaaaaaaaghhhhh!” Zuko yells in frustration, parting an inferno that is sent spiraling his way.

Sweat drips down his body, his hair is stuck to his porcelain skin and his cheeks are red with exhaustion. The soldier he is sparring with is the third one in the last few hours and still, his temper has not waned.

Zuko holds his hand up, signaling the soldier that he is done for the evening and that he may return to the barracks.

“My lord,” the soldier says in haste as he grabs his uniform and a towel.

Merely waving him off, Zuko grabs a towel and begins to dry his sweat soaked body off. He runs his palm over his sweaty face, dark locks clinging to his skin and neck where they had fallen out of his loose bun. His torso glistens in the moonlight and the fires in the braziers reflect off the small droplets of sweat decorating his body.

 _Agni_.

He is exhausted, his body is tingling and his mind is still racing. Zuko needs to bathe. Song will be in his rooms in less than an hour and he smells like a ostrich horse’s ass. So with that in mind, he tosses the towel over his shoulder and grabs his tunic and makes his way into the palace. Quietly he makes his way through the long halls in silence. As he rounds the corner he sees a lone soldier standing at the end, guarding his mother’s private garden. Upon closer inspection, it’s a soldier he knows well.

“Nikko,” Zuko calls out to him, his voice hoarse from his yelling during training.

The commander gives him a swift bow, “Prince Zuko.”

“What has you out here at such a late hour?”

Nikko’s head shifts to the side just a fraction and Zuko moves in closer, taking a look over the man’s shoulder and what he sees catches his breath in his throat. Katara is lying in the small pond, eyes closed, robe parted and hair fanning out around her, swaying gently in the water. She looks so ethereal that Zuko can feel his body react at the sheer sight of her. His fists clench at his towel and tunic and it takes everything in him to look away from her. If what his Uncle says is true, if he shows little interest, his father may lose interest in her all together. That would be beneficial to her and in the end, to him as well. He stifles a groan as he feels himself harden and his eyes quickly snap to the commander’s knowing gaze. There is a mischievous look in his eye and a coy, subtle smirk inching into the corner of his mouth and Zuko wants nothing more than to wipe that look off his face.

“As you were,” Zuko clears his throat, continuing on his way toward his chambers.

The commander watches the Prince’s retreating form and has to commend him on his self restraint. He can only imagine the sight that woman is to behold right now. With a soft shake of his head, Nikko clears his own throat and straightens himself just a little more, not daring to look at the scene behind him.

***~*~***

Slowly Katara’s eyes slip open, her gaze fixed on the moon. Her fingers flex at her side, itching to command the water, but she knows that she cannot. She sighs softly and pulls herself up from her position in the pond, her legs tuck in towards her chest and she rests her head on her knees as she wraps her arms around her legs.

_If only you’d leave me._

She thinks as her eyes travel over to the soldier standing at the garden’s entrance. And suddenly an idea comes to mind.

Slowly she rises from the pond, water flowing down her body in small streams and she quietly makes her way to the commander.

“Excuse me?” her voice is like velvet and Nikko has to command himself to stay vigilant.

He turns to her and a gasp catches in his throat as he takes in her _soaked_ appearance, “Yes mistress?”

Katara smiles tenderly at him, “It seems I got a little carried away. Would you mind bringing me a towel?” she presses up against him, her hands curling around his bicep.

Nikko nods numbly, “Yes mistress,” he whispers out before pulling himself away from her as if she were diseased.

Katara chuckles as the commander moves down the hall with haste.

_Finally alone._

Her fingers flex, she can feel the call of the water and the power of the moon surging through her veins, but a noise catches her attention and she drops her hands to her side.

“If it isn’t my little waterlily,” a sinister voice whispers around her and Katara turns to see a dangerous pair of golden eyes piercing through the darkness of night. 

Her breath hitches as she instinctively backs away from the man with the predatory gaze as he advances into the gardens. Every fiber of her being tells her to attack, to use her waterbending to protect herself, but she knows better. If she does this, Nyla will be in danger and Katara cannot have that on her conscience. No matter how terrified she is, Katara will not betray a friend and ally.

“Your majesty?” her voice quivers more than she would like and the twisting curl of his lips makes her understand that he enjoys the sound of her fear.

Her hand instinctively reaches behind her, searching for something, anything to protect her but all she is met with is the cool alabaster wall enclosing the garden in seclusion. A sob lodges itself in her throat and she can feel tears burn in the corners of her eyes. She tries to take calming breaths, but with every advancing step he makes, Katara’s resolve begins to weaken.

He is standing before her now. His powerful body barely pressing up against hers and Katara feels as if she cannot breathe. His presence is suffocating and there is nowhere for her to run to. She presses herself into the wall, hoping that it will swallow her whole, her hands clench into fists as her chest heaves softly.

“I’m tired,” Katara says as calmly as she can, “I think I’ll retire for the evening, your majesty,” she tries to push past him but Ozai reaches up, his hand grasping her face, fingers digging into her cheeks.

Katara’s entire body freezes and she just stands there in terror, blinking up at Ozai. Never in her life had a man put his hands on her like this and she not kill him on the spot. She knows she should just push him away, tell him to take his hands off her but it was like her whole body shut down and she cannot force herself to move.

Her eyes start to sting with tears of pain and fear and in this moment, she is just so, so scared. She wants Commander Nikko to return quickly, but deep down she knows he wouldn’t be able to save her.

“I can forgive you, my waterlily,” his velvety voice breaks the silence, like a ship crashing through ice.

A sob breaks through Katara’s lips, “Forgive me for what?”

“For becoming my son’s _whore_ , so long as you promise to be mi—”

Ozai shifts closer, moving in to kiss her and something inside Katara snaps. She manages to bring her hands up between her and Ozai and shoves him with all her strength, getting him to finally release her. He stumbles back with shock evident on his face.

“Stay away from me!” Katara yells, her chest heaving, “Stay the fuck away from me!”

She tries to get away but Ozai gets a hand around her wrist, yanking her back and slamming her into the wall. She swears she hears something crack as her back collides with the alabaster. A lone hand runs through his long, loose tresses as he stares at her intently.

“Do not fight me girl—”

“Your majesty, _let go,_ you’re hurting me—”

“You’re majesty?”

They both look up to see Commander Nikko striding towards them. Ozai immediately releases her, but keeps himself close enough to feel her breath on his cheek.

“I apologize if I am interrupting,” he hands a towel to Katara, “perhaps this is something that should be taken to your chambers?”

Ozai glares at Commander Nikko, but the soldier did not look the least bit intimidated.

“Come your majesty,” Nikko says, extending his arm, “a mistress as beautiful as she does not deserve to be ravaged publicly,” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t want any wandering eyes to get an eyeful of what is mine.”

Ozai gives the commander a once over before he looks to Katara, cocking his head to the side in thought. His hand comes up to brush her cheek bone, before tucking some loose hair behind her ear.

“I think you may be right Commander,” he leans in and captures Katara’s lips with his, crushing her between the wall and his powerful figure. His tongue pries open her mouth, forcing its way to lick inside, brushing over her bottom teeth before pulling away. A string of saliva hangs between them before Ozai brushes it away from Katara’s lips, gently, as if he were a tender lover.

“She deserves to be ravaged properly,” Ozai pulls Katara away from the wall and Katara struggles against his hold, “privately.”

“Your majesty, please!” Katara begs, but Ozai ignores her pleas.

“You are dismissed for the evening Commander,” with that he brushes past Nikko, dragging Katara with him and her eyes pleading with the commander to save her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he curses and takes off in the opposite direction.

**EXPLICIT & TRIGGERING CONTENT!**

**  
**Katara struggles against Ozai’s hold, “Your Majesty, I’m begging you! Please! Let me go!”

Ozai pulls her forward and Katara collides with his body, “You will obey me _whore_!”

“Or what!” Katara spits back with fury. Angry that she cannot fight him off as she wishes.

His hands yank her lower half forward, his arousal grinding into her, “Or suffering will be your teacher,” he hisses into her ear.

Katara’s throat feels too tight and her breath is coming in short bursts and she wonders if she might be on the verge of an actual panic attack. All too quickly she is spinning and Ozai is pushing her forward through a pair of doors with such force that she stumbles into the chamber and clamors to grapple herself against one of the columns that’s closest to her. A startled scream escapes her as Ozai comes up behind her and grasps hold of a fistful of hair.

“I’ll give you something to scream about, _woman_!” He twists her around, his lips crashing into hers as he backs her toward his bed. Katara struggles against him as much as possible but he is just too strong. All her efforts seem to do is anger him more.

“Your majesty?” a soft voice breaks through the turbulence of the raging storm and Katara spins around as Ozai acknowledges the woman who sits huddled up in his bed, her naked body covered by red silk sheets. 

Katara’s eyes widen, “Song?” she gasps and the woman narrows her eyes at Katara dangerously.

Before Katara has time for much else, Ozai spins her back around and begins to rip her robe from her body.

“You may leave us,” he states and Song remains there for a moment, watching as Katara’s body retreats closer to the bed, trying to stay out of reach.

Ozai’s eyes glitter with something menacing as he steps closer and Katara curses as she feels her legs collide with the bed. She flinches when he whips her around and bends her over the bed, her hands pushing against the mattress, trying to get up frantically. Katara’s tear filled eyes connect with Song’s unfazed gaze, pleading for help. 

“Your maj—”

“I said get out!” Ozai yells and Song doesn’t waste any time. She quickly bolts from the bed and pulls a dark olive cloak with a flower embroidered trim around her naked body. Without a spare glance at a struggling Katara, Song runs from the room without another word.

“I’m going to tear you apart,” Ozai bends down and whispers in her ear. His voice still in that same low, dangerous tone. 

She whimpers in sheer terror, “Your majesty pl—”

But then Ozai is pulling at her face and is crushing his lips against Katara’s, cutting off her words. Katara struggles against his weight as it presses against her back but then Ozai’s tongue delves between her lips, licking into her mouth and Katara’s fingers curl into the bed sheets. Ozai is kissing her roughly, his lips harsh and demanding, and Katara feels herself begin to spiral out of control, kissing him back, her hips thrusting against him, searching for friction. Her body having a mind entirely of its own, while every other fiber of her being is screaming for him to let go of her, to get off of her.

She moans instinctively as Ozai wretches his lips away to mouth at her throat. “Maybe I should show you what it’s like to be _fucked_ by a real man,” he breathes against her neck, “that way you’ll know the fucking difference the next time my son tries to have you.”

And before Katara knows what is happening, she feels the fabric of her night gown being ripped apart. She struggles when she feels arms lock around her, pulling her up and away from the bed only to twist her around and push her down into the mattress. Ozai follows her down, forcing her legs apart, pinning Katara down with his body weight, before finding her lips again. Katara whimpers into his mouth, her hands pushing against Ozai’s clothed chest.

Heatedly, Ozai reaches down between her legs, his fingers forcing themselves roughly between the folds of her sex to find her dripping with excitement. Katara curses her body’s response. She hates that there is nothing she can do to control how it reacts to stimulation.

“Look at you,” Ozai whispers against her lips, “already so _wet_ for me…”

Katara gasps, Ozai’s fingers thrust into her and her hips rock against him instinctively. Ozai takes one of her free hands and runs it against his aching cock, “You want this?” he rasps.

Katara shakes her head furiously, ripping her hand away from him, “No!” she spits in his face, trying to force him off of her, but he just won’t budge.

Her entire body is trembling and she feels like she will shatter into a thousand pieces if Ozai doesn’t pull his hand from her sex soon.

“You say you don’t want this,” he whispers against her lips, her body jerking as his fingers toy with her clit, “but your body is telling me a different story.”

With as much strength as she can muster, Katara reaches up to slap him as hard as she can, “Fuck you,” she will not give into him willingly.

Ozai rears back and slaps Katara with his free hand before pinning her wrists above her head, his other hand still fucking into her. Pain blossoms across her cheek and she cannot help the whimper that escapes her.

“Fuck you’re so tight, my waterlily,” Ozai breathes, gazing down at Katara as he worked his fingers in and out of Katara’s hole.

“You’re gonna feel so good around me…”

Katara feels Ozai’s fingers curl inside of her, brushing against her g-spot and she lets out a pitiful sounding whine.

As soon as he’s had his fill of fucking her with his fingers, Ozai quickly removes them and throws Katara’s legs over his shoulders. She hears clothing drop to the floor and suddenly he thrusts deep inside her. There is no slow buildup like there was with Zuko, no letting her adjust. Ozai immediately begins to move, setting a brutal pace, his hips snapping against Katara’s thighs, fucking into her roughly.

Katara cries out, her hands clawing at what little she can reach of Ozai but he seizes her wrists and brings them over her head, pinning her hands to the mattress. His grip is firm and there was no way she can break out of Ozai’s hold.

“How come you’re not telling me to stop?” Ozai growls in her ear, as he continues hammering into her.

“Is it because you like the way I fuck you?” he grips at her mandible and forces her to look at him.

Her teeth clench as she suppresses a moan when he hits her at just the right angle. His words revolt her but her body preens in response to his movements. She is completely caged in by Ozai’s body, totally at his mercy and she hates it. Being fucked by Ozai makes her feel tainted, vile and wicked. His hands on her body burn and she feels like venom is filling her veins. A strangled cry is ripped from her throat at every brutal punch of Ozai’s cock inside her, her hips jerk up of their own accord to meet his thrusts.

“I know you love it…even if you won’t fucking admit it…” Ozai grunts against the shell of her ear.

Spirits she _hates_ it. She wants him to stop, to end this!

Thankfully, with Ozai hitting her bundle of nerves dead on with every stroke, she isn’t going to last much longer. She can feel her entire body tense up, every fiber pulling taunt, her blood pounding through her veins, “Ple-please stop…” she manages to choke out.

“Come for me waterlily,” Ozai’s breath is hot against her face, “make a mess of yourself for me.”

As if her body was under Ozai’s command, Katara came soon after. Her toes curling, back arching off the bed as her orgasm rips through her body. After several more thrusts, she feels Ozai reach his own climax, groaning above her. He unhooks Katara’s legs from his shoulders, pulling out of her and buries his face in her neck, both gasping for breath. Katara’s fists clench above her head, her jaw tightens and tears run freely down her face. She wants nothing more than to kill him, but she knows she _can’t_. And that’s what kills her the most.

Slowly Ozai pulls away from her, his hair brushing against her face. Katara turns her gaze from him, not being able to look at him without vile thoughts running through her mind. He is only breathing because of Nyla. Because of Aang.

“That was exhilarating,” he pats her thigh, his voice light and filled with amusement, “you may go now,” he states matter of factly and Katara clenches her jaw even tighter.

She pulls herself up, grabbing at the remnants of her night gown and picks up her robe, wrapping it around her naked and battered body.

“I look forward to seeing you again, _Katara_ ,” he calls after her as she hastens herself out of his chamber.  
  


**END OF EXPLICIT CONTENT!**

***~*~***

It takes every ounce of strength she has left to run through the halls. A few times she collides with columns or walls as she staggers and looses her balance. Rounding a corner she runs right into the arms of Commander Nikko and his eyes are as wide as hers. Rage fills her at the thought of him watching Ozai drag her away and she shoves him with so much force it knocks the breath right out of her.

“My lady!” he calls to her as she runs around him.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” she screams and tries to outrun the sound of his clamoring footfalls.

The harem doors are in sight and she cannot help but crash into them. This is her sanctuary. She needs Nyla and Doctor Li. Katara needs to get _him_ out of her!

Her cries rip through her throat. They are guttural and terrifying. Angry murmurs and whispers fill the harem’s halls as Katara calls for Nyla in desperation.

“MADAM!” tears rush down her face as she crawls further down the hall, her legs just not having the energy to carry her any further.

“HE-HELP ME!”

Behind her, Commander Nikko bursts through the doors, his chest heaving as he dives next to her, his hands coming to rest on her back and grab at her upper arm. 

Katara shrinks from his touch as if burned, “DON’T TOUCH ME!”

“Let me help you!” he urges and Katara pushes against him, trying to get away from him.

“You let him—” she begins to sob uncontrollably, “YOU LET HIM HURT ME!”

Conflict echoes in his eyes as he tries to help her up, “My la—”

“Katara?” a voice calls from further into the harem.

The madam’s form comes into view and Katara gasps at the sight of her. A blanket of safety and comfort drapes over her as she sees the Madam now running full speed toward her.

“Katara!”

In a matter of seconds the Madam is on her knees, cradling Katara into her body, her sharp gaze fixes on Nikko.

“What happened?” she demands harshly. 

Nikko bows his head, unable to look at either of them, “The Fire Lord intercepted the Lady Katara in the gardens and he—”

Suddenly thunder clashes overhead and the sky is split open by a surge of lightening. The heavens begin to weep.

“He what?” Nyla hisses.

Commander Nikko shakes his head, “I believe he forced himself on Lady Katara.”

“And you didn’t stop him?” Nyla screams and Nikko shrinks back from her.

“He is the Fire Lord! Who am I to stand against him?” he hisses back, anger and malice lacing his tone, yet his eyes unbearably soft as they rest on Katara’s form.

“I went to fetch Prince Zuko—”

Nyla silences him, “He has been here with the Lady Song.” 

Katara stirs at the sound of Song’s name.

“Song?” she whispers meekly and Nyla nods at her sympathetically. Not aware of the reasoning behind Katara’s inquiry.

“Let’s get you to Doctor Li,” Nyla whispers gently to Katara, gathering her in her arms and pulling her up from the floor.

A burst of energy courses through Katara and she whirls around, wrenching herself from Nyla’s hold and storms through the harem.

“Katara! Katara where are you going?” Nyla and Nikko chase after her.

Hatred burns in her heart for both Song and Prince Zuko. They both abandoned her in two different ways, both hurting her with equal measure and she wants nothing more than to see them bleed. With all the energy she can muster, Katara calls forth water from the rain outside and wraps it around her fingers, freezing it and sharpening each frozen finger cap like they were stiletto knives. She kicks the doors of Song’s chambers in and launches her iced daggers at the headboard.

A scream erupts from the room and a burst of fire flies in her direction. Katara is able to deflect it easily in her rage and she calls forth more water to launch a spike straight for Song’s chest cavity. Blinded by her rage she doesn’t notice Zuko has slipped out of the bed and comes up behind her, hand grasping hold of her ice dagger and melting it while securing Katara in his hold.

“Katara!” Zuko yells, trying to break through her fury, “Katara calm down!”

His arms secure around her waist and she begins to buckle, her voice going hoarse from screaming.

“ _YOU LEFT ME_!” Zuko twists her around and Katara burrows her face into his neck, her fists pounding against his naked torso, “ _You left me and HE RAPED ME_!”

At this point she didn’t know which of the two she was yelling at and quite frankly she didn’t care. Exhaustion is starting to creep into her bones and she feels the darkness encroaching on her.

“He _raped_ me…”

Nyla and Nikko come to an abrupt halt at the scene before them, Zuko’s eyes slowly filling with rage, while naked and holding a now unconscious Katara in his arms. Tears sting at Nyla’s eyes and she approaches, trying to help the Prince with Katara’s dead body weight.

“Oh my sweet child…” Nyla kisses her forehead, brushing hair from her face before locking eyes with Zuko.

“I _swear_ —”

Zuko silences her, “Call for Doctor Li, now!”

***~*~***

Late into the evening, Zuko finds himself pacing outside of Doctor Li’s office. His mind is reeling and be cannot help but blame himself for what has happened to Katara. His hands run through his hair and his teeth gnaw at his bottom lip. 

Song tries to console him, but he sends her away. Her presence causing his skin to prickle and her voice making his stomach churn violently. As he waits for word from Doctor Li, he hears his Uncle’s breathing a few paces away. 

“Zuko—”

”Don’t!” He hisses at Iroh, “I did as you said, I left her alone and still he _took_ her!”

”My boy—”

“Avatar be damned,” he grips hold of his Uncle’s collar, pulling him close, “Ozai will die by my hand. Mark my words.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see a fraction of the after math from last chapter, as well as meet some new faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter with EXTREME MATURE CONTENT not meant for VIRGIN EYES and I will have those sections marked once again in the chapter. I know the last chapter was a doozie and it made some people uncomfortable. But this is a more mature look on a prisoner of war story. It isn’t always beautiful and people don’t always go through those experiences unscathed. So thank you for sticking through it and I hope this chapter more than makes up for it!

“This is _your_ fault!” Zuko hisses into Iroh’s face as he backs his Uncle up against Doctor Li’s doors.

Tears sting at his eyes, he is overwrought with blind rage, “I _never_ should have listened to you!” his vocal cords strain in his throat, “I could have protected her!” His fists bunch into the fabric of his Uncle’s night gown and he slams him roughly into the doors, but not rough enough.

Iroh’s features are distressed to say the least, “Nephew—”

“Ozai _raped_ her Uncle!” Zuko fumes.

Dull golden eyes grow wide for a split second before recovering quickly, “You cannot kill Ozai,” Iroh whispers back harshly, “he is not your’s to kill!”

Zuko let’s out a furious yell and slams his fist into the wall, right next to Iroh’s head. Fire erupts on contact and yet Iroh is not at all swayed by his nephew’s display of aggression.

“Get out of my sight,” Zuko hisses softly, releasing Iroh’s collar.

With nothing more to say to his Uncle, Zuko enters the doctor’s chambers to check on Katara’s condition.

Iroh watches him leave. He understands his pain and cannot blame his nephew for feeling the way that he does. Truth be told, he honestly believed Ozai would no longer want Katara after knowing his son had laid with her. He assumed that his brother would no longer see a challenge and would move on. But he miscalculated and that miscalculation cost Katara greatly.

Though he understands the multitude of reasons why Zuko should lay claim to his father’s life, Iroh cannot let him destroy everything they’ve worked so hard to achieve and all because of a young woman. He needs to get Zuko’s temper under control and set his focus on their tasks at hand. But for now, he will give him a few days to aid in Katara’s recovery and then, when the time is right, they will sort this whole mess out.

***~*~***

The sun begins to set in the western skies, hues of oranges and pinks, with trickles of blue paint the horizon. The boat makes port in Gao Ling after several weeks of travel through the raging seas.

Sokka’s body aches as he makes his way down the gangplank, his eyes searching for his escorts. He sent word the moment he found the carrier hawk to inform the Order of what had transpired. Needless to say, the response wasn’t at all what he expected it to be.

_A Grandmaster is imbedded within the Fire Nation palace, along with novice Order members. Katara will be looked after. Return to the post where the blind ones see and the meek reign victor._

Sokka only hopes the response holds truth.

The docks are loud and teeming with life. Fisherman boats unloading their days catch, merchants hollering out prices for their wares and countless number people flooding the docks in search of things to purchase. Agilely, Sokka weaves his way through the crowd. He is accompanied by a few of his brothers and sisters from the Order that had been captured alongside him and Katara. As he continues to scan the faces in the crowd, something white catches his eye and he hones in on it.

Relief seeps into his bones as he catches sight of a white haired, hooded figure leaning against one of the boat hangers across the way. He quickens his pace. Cobalt eyes meet for the first time in quite a long time. A smile stretches over pearly white teeth, but just barely and it has Sokka bolting for the hooded figure in a heartbeat. Arms encircle their waste as Sokka crashes against them, a soft, deep chuckle rumbles in their chest as they wrap their arms around the Water Tribe Prince.

“What did I say about public displays of affection Sokka?” they whisper, holding their hand up to halt the others in their place a few strides away.

Sokka’s face is buried in their neck, his mouth moves but only muffled words are heard.

“What was that?” fingers weave into his hair and pull his head back, “I couldn’t understand you.”

Slapping at their hand, Sokka pulls away and straightens himself, “I said, that they make you extremely uncomfortable and surprisingly violent. But I’m old enough to know how to fight back now.”

Another chuckle and a pat on his shoulder cause him to smile, “It’s good to see you little brother,” he’s pulled into a bone crushing hug by the larger, older male and Sokka cannot help but return it in kind.

“I’ve missed you Seiran.”

“You have been sorely missed Sokka,” the white haired male whispers back.

After a few moments, the brothers pull away from one another, taking a moment to look each other over.

“I’m gone for a little while and look at you!” Seiran gestures his hand up and down Sokka’s body.

At the compliment, Sokka straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little, he is still a few inches shorter than his older brother, but tall nonetheless.

“It’s been a couple of years brother,” Sokka chuckles, “I’ve even earned my own beads,” he tilts his head.

Seiran chuckles, flicking one of the beads in Sokka’s hair, “So it would seem.”

His heart aches at the knowledge that the beads in his little brother’s hair represents battles he’s fought and lives he’s taken. Even though Sokka is twenty three, he shouldn’t have to be such a decorated warrior at this stage in life.

“Come, I’ve made arrangements at a nearby inn,” Seiran says, wrapping his arm around Sokka’s shoulder, “we’ll lodge there for the night and then head out at dawn.”

With that, the brothers walk side by side, exchanging stories as the rest of the Order’s members follow them discreetly through the streets.

***~*~***

“You cannot be serious,” Seiran cannot help the unamused look that falls over his face at the story Sokka has just told him.

Sokka shrugs, “Hey, it wasn’t my finest moment, ok? I was drunk and thought I could get the fishhook out of my thumb with another fishhook,” he sips on his ale before he leans back in his chair.

They had arrived at the inn and were given keys to their rooms. Seiran suggested to the others to find their sleeping quarters and to get some well deserved rest, but coaxed Sokka into going down to the inn’s tavern for a drink.

They have been at it for a while now.

“You didn’t think to just pull it out with your fingers?” Seiran chuckles.

Sokka sits up, leans his forearms against the tavern table, “Like I said, not my finest moment!”

“Cut the kid some slack,” a voice grunts behind Sokka and he stiffens up.

Seiran gives the newcomer an unamused look before rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his own ale.

Quickly spinning in his chair, Sokka spots the owner of the voice and jumps up, gathering the man in his arms, “Ensei!”

The man chuckles and pats Sokka on the back, “Yes, yes! It’s good to see you too Sokka!”

Quickly Sokka releases him and Ensei pulls up a chair and seats himself at their table. He waves a hand at the bartender and orders himself an ale.

Seiran sets his cup down, “You’re late.”

That earns him a sigh, “Here’s the thing, I was tied up—”

“I’m not in the mood to listen to your sexual exploits right now,” Sokka chokes on his beverage as Seiran cuts Ensei off.

Ensei chuckles, “You’re thinking about that ti—”

One cold stare from Seiran’s cobalt eyes and Ensei stills his tongue, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Sokka continues to cough and both men shift their gaze to him, “Could you not!”

Ensei smacks Sokka on the back a couple of times before pulling away, amusement etched onto his face.

After they settle, the conversation takes a turn toward their most recent set back that resulted in his and Katara’s capture.

“I should have forced her on the damn boat,” Sokka grumbles, elbows hitting the table as he drops his face into his hands.

Seiran watches Sokka for a moment with calculating, yet tender eyes before sharing a quick look with Ensei. Everyone heard of the horrors that went on in the Fire Lord’s palace. Some knew a little too well.

“Katara is strong Sokka,” Seiran finally breaks the silence, hand clapping his shoulder, “she knew what she was doing when she stayed.”

Sokka sighs, “You didn’t see how they swarmed her.”

“Katara wouldn’t go down without taking several of those bastards with her,” Ensei chimes in, “I guarantee you of that.”

“I should have stayed behind…” Sokka groans, “so she wouldn’t be alone.”

Ensei looks to Seiran, his eyebrow cocking, “Who said she’s alone?”

Sokka looks at both men, his brow scrunching together, “What do you mean?”

Seiran takes a drink, before responding, “There are members of the order who have infiltrated the Fire Lord’s palace. We’ve been getting regular reports on Katara’s condition,” he takes another swig.

From the cryptic message he received in response to his initial letter, Sokka knew there were other members of the Order there. But she was alone without a friend or him there to stand beside her. He can’t imagine what she must be going through, while he sits here and drinks ale with their brothers.

“How is she doing?” Sokka inquires.

Seiran hums as he nods his head, fingers tracing the rim of his glass, “She’s holding up,” he pauses, thinking once more if he should tell Sokka about _everything_ or not.

With a side glance at his little brother, seeing the hopeful and eager look in his eyes, he decides against it.

 _It’s her business to tell,_ he reasons.

“She’s keeping them on their toes,” he chuckles softly.

Sokka nods.

“Good. Good,” he whispers softly, taking another swig of his ale.

“Well on a less depressing note, I met this really sexy bounty hunter—” Ensei begins.

Seiran groans loudly and Sokka chuckles.

“I am _not_ drunk enough for this conversation,” Seiran states, holding his cup up, shaking it at the barkeep, “another round!”

At this point they were playing catch up. It was only a matter of time before they were separated once more. Though Seiran and Ensei were not his brothers by blood, they were just as important to him and just as loved. They had been through all of the hard times with him and Katara. They were there to comfort him and Katara when their mother died. The stayed behind to help protect the village when their father and the other warriors went off to fight in the war. But soon, Sokka had to watch their retreating backs as they too went out into the world and fought alongside their tribesmen. They were at his and Katara’s side when the North and South became joint tribes and vowed their loyalty to them as newly crowned royals. Once more they were next to him when he was married to the love of his life. He remembers how nervous he was when he watched Yue come down the isle. How Seiran and Ensei calmed him with whispers of encouragement and praised him for choosing such a brave and beautiful woman.

They were there when Katara was denied to learn how to use her waterbending for fighting and were extremely persuasive. Katara was trained the day after. Both of them have been there at the most pivotal points in their lives and for that, he is thankful. Sometimes he cannot help but wonder if the family they had before his ever missed them. As selfish as it is, he’s thankful they left them and found him and his family instead. A smile breaches his lips as Seiran and Ensei bicker and Sokka can’t help but take their features in and note how they have grown.

Seiran has changed a lot in the last couple of years. His snow colored hair is now down past his shoulder blades, pulled up into a half braided pony tale. His cobalt eyes are sharp and narrow, with his high bridged nose dividing them evenly. His jaw is more chiseled and define, nothing but sharp lines and angles and his lips are smooth and plump like always. His skin reminds Sokka of golden honey, he isn’t too dark, but he isn’t pale either. Seiran is a handsome man and sometimes the Northern warriors joked about how they’d mistake him for a woman.

There was no denying that Seiran was a man and one hell of a warrior. His back is broad, shoulders wide and his body is decorated with scars. His taunt muscles always tightly wound, as if he were ready to fight at any second. He isn’t too bulky, but he’s built well enough to make others question if they really want to challenge him or not.

Seiran is one of the strongest men Sokka’s ever known and many of the Northern Tribe’s warrior’s soon learned he was an opponent to never underestimate. He is a fire bender of unprecedented skill. Though he may look Water Tribe, act like a tribesman and be considered a child of the moon, he wields the power of the sun in the palm of his hand.

Ensei, much like Seiran, has filled out over the years. The only difference between the two, is that Ensei has turmeric golden eyes, pale skin and short cropped hair that is black as silt.

They were like two halves of a coin. Like yin and yang. Opposites in every way, but bound together by fate and blood. Twins who were as different from one another as the way they looked. Many believed they weren’t related, but once they take a hard look at them, see past the color of their skin, hair and eyes, their facial structures were too strikingly similar.

Ensei is wild and rambunctious. He’s a non-bender like Sokka and he shares the same sense of humor as Sokka does. Ensei trained him by way of the sword and hand to hand combat, well enough for him to survive but instructed Sokka to meet with Master Piando and hone his skills. But he knew that behind the vibrant vibrato of his laughter, the smiles and the humor, Ensei is a tortured man. They never talked about their past or where they came from. But it never was too hard to figure out, what with Seiran setting things on fire when he sneezed, to Ensei’s striking features that just screamed Fire Nation.

He remembers the day they found them in the polar caps, floating on a piece of drift wood. Their father and the other men had gone hunting for the tribe and instead of bringing back meat, they brought back two young boys on death’s doorstep. The tribe argued for days while the boys were tended to and cared for by their mother. The motion to separate them was tossed around several times. The idea was to keep Seiran and to discard Ensei to the wilderness of the tundra.

 ** _You would condemn a child based on his appearance alone?_** Kya’s voice echos in Sokka’s head as his mind wanders through old memories. **_You are no better than them. Shame on you!_**

His mother fought to keep them both, at least long enough until they were healthy enough to leave. His tribe wanted to keep Seiran because he _looked_ Water Tribe and Ensei _looked_ like a boy with fire in his blood. Little did they know how wrong they truly were. He remembers the fighting and arguing that took place once the boys were conscious. The members of the tribe questioned them until they were blue in the face, but neither boy broke, nor did the flinch in fear at the threats thrown their way.

The tribe was at a breaking point, when finally their father stood up as the Chief and stated, **_I will take them into my home,_** his father’s voice echoes, **_they will be my responsibility and mine alone._**

Chaos ensnared. But, he remembers how quickly the tribal members stilled their tongues at one particularly icy glare from their mother. After that it was a done deal.

Sokka chuckles at the memory of their mother and it causes both Seiran and Ensei to look over at him.

“What’s got you so amused?” Seiran smirks at Sokka.

The younger man in question shakes his head, “Nothing, I was just thinking back on old memories,” he says dismissively.

“Care to share?” Ensei asks.

Sokka sighs, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms, “I remember the day father found you both,” his voice growing softer, fondness lacing every word, “I remember how protective mother was of both of you and how she silenced a whole group of men with just one glare,” he chuckles softly.

Tenderness swirls in the twins’ eyes as they remember that whole ordeal, “She could silence any man with just one look,” Ensei remarks.

Seiran nodded, “Especially when she was pregnant with Katara,” his eyes shift back to Sokka, “you were what, only three years old then?”

Sokka scuffs, “I was almost four, thank you very much!”

“I’m surprised that you even remember that, considering how tiny you were,” Ensei sips on his ale.

Sokka nods, “It was one of the few things I remember from being that young.”

“We had been drifting for what, two days?” Ensei asks no one in particular.

Seiran nods, “Yea, I had to use what little firebending I knew to keep us warm,” he smirks, looking down at his clasped hands.

“You almost sank us!” Ensei laughs, fist pounding on the table.

“But did we sink?” Seiran asks cheekily.

“We almost died because of you!” Ensei laughs loudly, leaning back in his chair, tilting it on two legs.

Seiran throws a small nut at him, “I was six! I didn’t know the first thing about firebending, other than how to _breathe_ ,” Seiran’s tone sounds comical and sophisticated at the end.

“Remember your breathing techniques!” Ensei laughs, “Man, I remember that’s all Uncle ever told you. You use to get so mad too. You wanted to learn real firebending damnit!”

Seiran seems to sober up at the mention of this _uncle_ and Sokka makes a mental note of it. This is the first time in twenty years either of them ever let something slip about their past.

Seiran sighs, “Well, for what it’s worth, the old man was right. The basics are fundamental to being a master firebender.”

Ensei’s chuckle dies down a little, “If we ever find ourselves stranded on a piece of driftwood without a waterbender,” he winks at Seiran, “I have faith in your skills to know you won’t set it on fire this go around.”

They laugh together and Sokka cannot help but join them.

***~*~***

“How is she?”Katara can hear Zuko’s deep voice pool in her subconscious. Bouncing off the walls of the darkness her mind finds itself in.

A sigh follows, “She is stable, Prince Zuko. She suffered severe tearing and internal bruising. I did what I could but—”

“Thank you,” the sound of a door opening gets Katara’s attention, “Doctor Li, give Nyla and I a moment alone.”

There were soft mutterings and the sound of doors opening and closing once more. Katara wills her eyes to open, but it is in vain. So she instead focuses on the voices near her and tries to make out what they were saying.

“Since when did you take her off the chi blockers?” Zuko’s voice sounds strained.

Another agitated sigh follows, “Since the first day she came into the harem.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of danger you’ve put her in? What danger you’ve put yourself in Nyla!” he hisses softly.

“I know very well Zuko,” Nyla retorts, her tone is laced in anger, “I also _expressed_ to Katara not to use her bending around anyone, or we would be discovered.”

A snort fils the air, “She tried to _kill_ me!”

“She was angry and scared. You’d do the same if you were in her position,” Nyla fights back.

“Why didn’t she fight him then?” Zuko asks, he sounds defeated more than anything.

There is silence for a moment followed by Nyla’s soft response, “I don’t know.”

Silence hangs in the air and Katara wonders what they are doing. She wants so desperately to speak, to open her eyes but her body doesn’t respond to her simple commands. She wants to feel protected. To be held in a secure and warm embrace. She wants to know that Zuko didn’t leave her to his father after he had his fill. Katara desperately wants to know that he cares.

“Have her things moved to my chambers,” Zuko instructs.

“But Iroh—”

Zuko snarls, “It was his piss poor advice that landed Katara in my father’s lap to begin with! Do not question me Nyla. You may outra…”

His voice trails off into a whisper and Katara can barely hear him. She longs for him to return, just the sound of his voice alone brings her comfort, even if she feels betrayed, she cannot help how her body responds to his closeness.

“…still the Prince of the Fire Nation and that alone gives me more power than either you or Uncle,” Zuko’s voice comes back into her subconscious as clear as rain, “do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Nyla’s response is curt and Katara can tell she is agitated.

“Now,” Zuko begins, “move her things to my chambers. I don’t want to have to say it again.”

“Of course, _Prince_ Zuko,” Nyla grates out and Katara hears a loud impact, followed by the slamming of a door.

A heavy sigh bursts into the silence of the room before she feels strong hands coming up underneath her body. A hand splays out over her forearm with an arm tucking up under her back and another one at the bend of her knees. She is being held firmly against a warm body and the scent is too overwhelming. Sandalwood and smoke, with a hint of cinnamon. She sighs at the comfort it brings and nuzzles her face deeper into the firm chest. Being surrounded by his scent though, pulls her into a deep state of sleep and she remains that way for quite some time.

As Zuko walks down the hall to his private rooms, the guards stationed outside open the doors to grand him access. He walks through swiftly, pulling Katara closer to his person.

The guards begin to close the doors, when Zuko speaks, “No one is permitted to enter. No matter what you may hear, see to it that I am not disturbed.”

“Yes your majesty.”

The room is sealed off swiftly.

Zuko brings Katara over to his bed and gently lays her down amongst the pillows and silk sheets. As he begins to pull away, he is met with resistance and glances down to see Katara’s fist is bunched up into his tunic.

A sigh escapes him and he gently removes her hand from his person. He walks to his closet and begins to strip down to just his trousers. His mind is racing with horrible thoughts and he wants nothing more than to fulfill them all. But he knows he cannot. With another quick glance at Katara, Zuko proceeds to the washroom to take a much needed bath, so he may clear his mind and temper his dark thoughts.

The smell of water rushes through Katara like lightening. Every sense is heightened and alert. Her fingers flex at her sides and her body hums with exhilarating energy. Her eyes flutter open, taking some time to focus, which forces her to blink away the haziness. Cautiously she sits up, but hisses at the pain in her lower back. Her eyes scan the room and she is unfamiliar with her surroundings.

 _We must be in his private chambers,_ she thinks to herself.

Katara cups her forehead as the dizziness from earlier begins to swarm her mind and she has to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. As things come into focus, she slowly swings her legs over the edge of the bed and pushes herself up onto her feet. Quietly she pads around the room, taking in Zuko’s private chambers.

His furniture is made of rich, dark mahogany wood. There is a desk resting in front of an ornate fireplace. It is littered with scrolls, inkwells, wax and seal stamps, along with a small whiskey tumbler. Lining the mantle of the fire place are several crystal bottles, varying in size, containing liquor. Whiskey she assumes. Just above the mantle is a large family portrait and Katara cannot help but scrunch her brow at the tattered, pathetic painting.

A family of five are seated regally together. A small boy hugs the robes of the seated woman, whose hand rests over an extremely swollen belly and the other rests on the little boy’s shoulder. The little boy is missing the left side of his face, due to what appears to have been someone singeing it off the painting.

 _That must be Zuko when he was little,_ she muses to herself, instinctively stepping closer.

Two more small children, a little bit bigger than Zuko, sit on folded knees. The elder male has a hand on one of the children’s shoulder and Katara instantly recognizes the man.

 _Ozai._ She spits viciously.

But the thing that was odd, is that the face of Zuko’s mother is burned completely off, as well as the other two children in the painting.

_I thought he had only one sibling…that being Princess Azula…_

Her mind wanders as she continues to take in the room. There is a seating area across from the desk, on the other side of the chamber. Plush pillows and a decorated sitting tea table. It looks quaint and not at all what she would expect in a Prince’s chamber.

Her eyes drift back to the bed, where she examines the red and black sheer silks that hang from the ceiling and fall around his four post bed, providing some privacy. It is hard to see the actual bed past the silk screen and Katara wonders if that is perhaps the reason for the sheer silk drapes in the first place. The bed is massive for one man alone to sleep in it. In fact, Katara is certain that she, her father and brothers, Yue and Aang could all sleep on this with ease and probably still have room to spare.

Her body prickles with small bumps and she turns to the sound of water sloshing around. A door stands adjacent to her and she stalks toward it like a predator, fingers fidgeting at her sides. Her element calls to her, the pull of the water draws her body closer. Fingers clutch around the handle and she knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could kill him in this moment. He would be caught unaware, engulfed in her element and just like that, she could end his life.

 _I need to know if he regrets it. I have to see his heart,_ she thinks, turning the handle as slowly and as quietly as possible.

Taking a deep breath, with her hand still pressed against the door and the other on the handle, she slowly pushes it open.

Her eyes scan the elaborate, expansive washroom and soon they find the large tub that’s carved into the marble flooring. She can see bubbles rising to the water’s surface and a mop of black hair swaying with the current beneath the water. Katara’s breathing quickens as she walks toward the tub with fierce determination. She brings her hand up and draws water to her, an ice dagger forming in her hand as she jumps into the tub, her thighs straddling either side of Zuko’s waist. Warm hands grip the tops of her thighs as his body shifts beneath her and he comes up for air. He shakes his head quickly, hair sticking to his forehead and suddenly there is a cool blade up against his throat and a hand spread over his chest, right above his heart.

Zuko doesn’t seem phased by this outcome whatsoever. His hands remain firm on the tops of her thighs, thumbs brushing over her skin tenderly and it muddles Katara’s mind momentarily.

“Why did you leave me?” she hisses, pressing the blade into his skin a little more, as cobalt blue and turmeric gold clash.

Zuko takes a deep breath, warmth dancing across her chest as it escapes him and Katara shudders. Her night gown is riding up to her hips because of the water and Katara shifts in his lap, feeling him hard beneath her.

“I didn’t want to—” Zuko begins, but hisses when Katara presses the blade deeper, a small trickle of blood rolls down his throat.

Tears start to swell in her eyes, “Don’t lie to me—”

The water churns as Zuko’s hands launch from the her thighs and grip her forearms, “I left you so I could protect you,” his grip tightens a fraction as he brings her a bit closer, causing the blade to dig deeper. More blood seeps from his wound.

Katara scuffs darkly, “Little that did,” her eyes follow the blood as it mixes with the water and she flicks her narrowed eyes back up to him, “I could kill you right here, right now.”

Zuko straightens under her gaze, his jaw clenching, “Do it,” he whispers harshly, pulling her close, their lower halves grind together in the process.

Katara’s breath hitches. She can _feel_ him and it drives her mad.

“Do it Katara,” Zuko’s voice is strained as her ice cuts deeper into his throat, “you won’t have another chance to do so again.”

Her chest heaves and she cannot help the way her hips tilt against him and she can visibly see his eyes darken. Her body responds to this and she loves it and hates it at the same time. Feeling him beneath her, his calloused hands on her, she practically mewls. She wants him to make her forget. Katara wants him to cover every inch of her in his touch and burn every mark Ozai left.

“Do you regret it?” Katara whispers softly.

Zuko surges forward, his lips crashing against hers, arms encircling her and pulling her into him. Katara’s blade is still at his throat and her hand still presses against his chest.

“More than anything,” he gasps against her mouth.

She responds to him, her tongue darting out to glide over his bottom lip. Zuko opens his mouth with ease and she licks into his wet heat. The dagger in her hand melts as she grabs at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her.

“I never wanted—” he whispers between heated kisses, “— to let you go,” Katara’s tears flow freely down her cheeks, “I’m so—” teeth gnash together as hands roam over exposed flesh hurriedly, “—so sorry Katara,” she grinds down against him, causing him to moan deeply in her mouth.

“Show me,” she gasps against his lips, “show me how sorry you are.”

Zuko crashes against her like a tidal wave, consuming her as she tries to devour him.

***~*~***

Dawn comes sooner than expected. Sokka’s head feels like it is splitting as he rolls over in his bed. He can hear Ensei’s snores, which agitate him and cause the dull ache in his head to intensify.

With a quickness that he didn’t know his hungover ass possessed, Sokka launches his pillow, hitting his brother square in the face. Ensei snarls softly, tossing the pillow back at Sokka and rolls away from him, hugging himself while grumbling.

“Time to get up ladies!” Flames ignite in the fireplace and in the small candles around the room as Seiran busts through the door.

Ensei rolls back toward Sokka, who on instinct also rolls away from the bright flames in the room.

Both men groan and Ensei pulls his blanket up over his head, “Fucking firebenders,” he grumbles.

Seiran kicks his brother in the ass and then goes over to Sokka and rolls him right off the bed.

“Daylights burnin!” Seiran yells as he enters the small washroom. He comes walking out with a bucket in hand, filled with water and tosses it on both of them.

“Hey!”

“Oh for fucksake!”

“The sun isn’t even up yet!”

“Fucking firebenders!”

They both start hollering as they scurry about the room, tossing shit around as Seiran strolls out laughing.

After finally getting themselves together, they head down to the inn’s tavern for breakfast with Seiran and the others.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Seiran chuckles, before sipping on some piping hot tea.

Sokka and Ensei both look extremely unamused as they sit down at the table with their brother.

“I say we dump him in the river,” Sokka mutters, pouring himself some tea.

Ensei shakes his head, “No,” he begins to pour himself some as well, “I say we strap him to the back of an untamed ostrich horse, give it a little smack and watch it shake him around a bit.”

Sokka looks at him with narrowed eyes, a smirk creeping into the corner of his mouth before he looks back at Seiran, “Agreed and _then_ we dump him into the river.”

“Agreed.”

They clank their tea cups together as if they have struck an accord and start to down the liquid. The warmth of the tea bringing life to their bodies and waking them up from the inside out. Breakfast was served and they all munched together while chatting over a few things here and there.

“When you get to the outpost, give this to father,” Seiran hands over a small, leather pouch, “it’s the information I’ve gathered on the Southern Raider’s routes.”

Sokka takes the satchel, placing it next to him on the table, “Why can’t you give it to him yourself?”

“I’m leaving for the Fire Nation after breakfast.”

Sokka chokes on his eggs, which causes Ensei to smack his back a couple of times to help him clear his throat, “Now doesn’t this seem familiar.”

“What?” Sokka halfway shrieks, “Why?”

Seiran sips on his tea, eyes focusing on Sokka for a moment before responding, “I’ll be posted into an elite guardsman position. It’ll help me keep an eye on Katara, amongst other things.”

Sokka chews on his bottom lip, his nerves starting to kick in, “Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Nothing is ever truly safe, little brother, but there is a job to do and a sister to protect,” Seiran smiles gently at Sokka, “I’d rather it be me than anyone else from the order.”

“Why not Ensei or myself?” Sokka asks.

Seiran’s eyes narrow just a fraction, “Your duty is to protect the Avatar first and foremost, Sokka,” Seiran grabs the teapot, “and Ensei,” he pauses, a look is exchanged between the twins, “he has a few loose ends he needs to address. Intel from the Grandmaster within the Fire Lord’s palace indicates that the Fire Nation is doubling their search efforts for the Freedom Fighters.”

Sokka scuffs, “They’ve been looking for Jet and his group of misfits for _years_ and still haven’t figured out how to _look up,”_ Sokka points his finger upwards, “with an enemy this stupid, you’d think we’d be winning by now.”

Seiran chuckles, “That may be so, but, we still need to provide them with this intel. Someone gave the soldiers a heading and we need to make sure the Freedom Fighters are prepared.”

“Don’t forget about the Library—” Ensei starts, but shovels food into his mouth.

Sokka quirks his brow, “What library?”

“Wong Shi Tong’s Library. Apparently Commander Zhao has gained support from the courts to take out a small team to locate it,” Ensei says with a mouth full of food.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sokka kicks back in his chair, “It’s the only Library in the world that contains information of every nation. Apparently the knowledge spirit demands payment to all those who enter,” Seiran continues for his brother.

Sokka’s eyes widen, “You mean that there is another library out there that contains information on the Fire Nation?”

“Quite possibly. But I feel Zhao is going for other reasons,” Seiran mutters.

“I hate that guy,” Sokka responds.

The twins grunt in agreement.

“So what is the mission on the library?” Sokka asks.

Ensei grunts, grabbing his tea cup to wash down his food, “To find it before Zhao and to gather any intel that may prove useful before the bastard torches the place.”

Sokka nods, “I can do that—”

A sigh rushes past Seiran’s lips, “Sokka you—”

“It’s in the desert. Aang is learning earthbending at the moment and I know for a fact that Toph wanted to go explore the option of sandbending,” Sokka interrupts his brother, “I’m not just some glorified Avatar babysitter, you know. I’ve been to Naraka and back because of that bald kid! Literally!” he screeches.

Ensei and Seiran laugh at his outburst and Sokka looks unamused.

“You have no idea what I go through with that kid…” he mutters softly.

“Fair enough,” Seiran cannot stop chuckling, “I’m sure if you bring a proposal to the Grandmasters, they would be willing to listen.”

Sokka taps the table a few times before leaning back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the table with a smile on his face, “Wong Shi Tong Library, here I come!”

“What are you, a fucking animal?” Ensei smacks Sokka upside the back of his head and then knocks his feet off table.

The twins laugh softly, “This kid,” Ensei pushes Sokka’s shoulder, “leave him unsupervised for a few years and look at him. Table manners went all to shit!”

They all laugh together for the last time for quite a while.

***~*~***

**EXTREME EXPLICIT CONTENT**

It’s dim. The flames from the candles flare with each stroke of their tongues. Zuko’s grip tightens around her, mashing and molding their bodies together as one. Katara’s fingers trail over every inch of skin she can get her hands on and she is desperate to feel all of him. Her hips rock against his hard, aching manhood and he gasps into her mouth.

“Katara.”

She suddenly feels like she can’t breathe properly.

“You’re overdressed my love,” Zuko says under his breath, leaning back, his hands trailing down below the water to the hem of her nightgown.

Katara leans back just enough, her eyes giving Zuko all the permission he needs and she can feel him drag the wet garment up her body. She raises her arms to accommodate the action and hisses softly when the cool air hits her breasts, her nipples instantly hardening.

She looks at him, at the way Zuko licks his lips, his gaze screaming at her that he wants to _devour_ her. She feels hands slide up her thighs, over her taunt stomach and up to her nipples, softly stroking them with his thumbs. 

“ _Oh,”_ Katara moans out, leaning into his touch, her eyes closing instinctively.

She wants this so badly, desperately even and she rocks her lower half against him.

“Zuko—” she’s immediately silenced with a deep kiss, his sinful tongue making her head spin and a whine escapes her. His fingers roll around her nipples, pinching, pulling, flicking and teasing and Katara leans her upper body into his touch.

Zuko is sometimes like the calm before the storm. Tender and gentle and he always makes Katara feel so good. Then there are times that he is like the hurricane. When he bites at Katara’s bottom lip, when he demands her body complies to his every touch and when her skin is littered with the red markings of his love. She wants to make him _feel_ as helpless as he has made her feel and she knows that he would let her do anything. 

When they pull away from one another, Katara can see the hidden gaze in Zuko’s darkening orbs and it screams at her.

He wants to wreck her.

It’s a look that should unsettle her, that should make her feel alarmed, but she cannot think straight. Not with the way he touches her or how he pulls moans from her when they kiss. It’s addictive and she cannot stop and she doesn’t want to. She knows that Zuko is a dangerous man, but she is also a dangerous woman. If he is the hurricane that wrecks the vessel, she’s the iceberg that sinks it in frigid waters.

If Zuko wants to ruin her, she’ll let him, but not before destroying him first.

They’re both panting, noses touching now and unable to look away from one another. Katara sighs when she feels Zuko’s hands cup under her thighs and she tightens her legs around his waist as he hoists them out of the bath. She presses herself against him in anticipation as they leave the washroom soaking wet.

Gently he lays her down and continues his assault on her mouth. Her hands grip at his hair and shoulders, legs still wrapped around him, grinding their lower halves together.

Between kisses, Katara speaks, “Let me have my way with you.”

Slowly, Zuko pulls back, his hand holding him up as it presses into the mattress near Katara’s head. The other comes to brush hair from her face, before tenderly stroking her cheek.

“Whatever your desire,” he leans down, kissing her once more, “I’ll comply, my love.”

Katara’s breath shudders against Zuko’s lips and her body hums in anticipation. She wants to hear him beg for her. To remind him that he belongs to her, just as much as she belongs to him.

***~*~***

“Oh spirits— _fuck.”_

Katara cannot help but notice the way Zuko’s body is straining, how his thighs are solid and tense beneath her. It makes her lick at her lips, feeling devious and she releases Zuko’s cock, wanting that frustration to appear on his face once more.

The action makes Zuko pull even more at the thick ice manacles around his wrists, that have him anchored to the headboard of the bed. Zuko is trying so hard to keep his firebending in check as to not break them until Katara gives him permission. As they agreed upon. This is all about trust and showing her that he is truly sorry for leaving her vulnerable. Now, he thinks, he is going to know a fraction of what vulnerability tastes like.

“Shit,” Zuko groans, chest moving up and down heavily, “you’re being such a _tease,_ my love.”

Katara bites back a smile, adjusting herself on Zuko’s thighs, straddling him. She feels the soft silk under them as she grips it, “Were you close,” she nips at his lips, “ _love?”_

Its taunting, she knows it is, but she cannot stop herself from doing it.

Zuko licks at her lips, kissing her, almost in a desperate plea, “So _close_ ,” he breathes against her mouth.

He leans his head back against the headboard with a soft thud, biting his lower lip and he looks desperate as he adjusts himself somewhat under Katara’s weight.

“Please, Katara.”

She is feeling somewhat merciful. There is something so beautiful when the raven haired male begs, especially when the moonlight hits him, revealing every feature for her sight to take in. Messy and pleading, all for Katara to enjoy.

“Please what?” she asks innocently. Her hand reaching between their bodies.

Zuko closes his eyes for a moment, jaw tensing up and he throws his head back as he feels Katara’s hand slowly stroking him again. He doesn’t know how long the teasing and edging has been going on, but he is almost at his breaking point. He wants to burn through the ice that traps him and fuck her until she screams his name, but he can’t. Because he needs to show her that he trusts her and that he will always be willing to be at her mercy. But _spirits_ he wants so desperately to _tear_ her apart.

“Please let me cum,” Zuko moans, looking into Katara’s cobalt eyes, accidentally jerking up into Katara’s hand a bit but immediately stops himself.

“ _Please_ love, I’ll do anything, fu—fuck,” he continues. The sounds escaping him are like music to Katara’s ears, making her stroke Zuko faster.

Zuko’s head is thrown back, his breathing is uncontrolled as he hisses into the air, “F-fuck, fuck, fuck, so clo-close,” fire bursts from his mouth and Katara smirks as his words string together into gibberish, “please-please-plea—”

She decides to give him a taste of pleasure, not being able to hold herself back from making Zuko come undone beneath her any longer. She strokes him with renewed vigor and it’s an intoxicating feeling. Her other hand glides over Zuko’s tightening abs, feeling them strain beneath her touch as Zuko tries extremely hard not to move.

“A-ahhh!”

Absolutely breathtaking.

“Katara, please—shit, shit, _Katara, love_ ,” he cries out, as he grips at the top of the head board, while seemingly trying not to buck up into Katara’s merciless hand, knowing that the action might make the pleasure stop.

“Don’t stop, s-spirits, don’t stop, _please_.”

Katara has given up on making eye contact, knowing that Zuko is too far gone from the pleasure she is providing. The wet sounds become more prominent before she pauses and takes a moment to look at him. Tortuously she digs her thumb into the slit of his cock, enjoying the way her name is being moaned out into the night air. Sweat glistens across Zuko’s body, beads gathering across his forehead and she finds this look on him to be ravishing. Her stroking immediately continues as her other hand is now softly fondling with his ball sack, wanting, yearning for Zuko to orgasm.

“ _Oh fu-fucking spirits_.”

“It’s ok, love,” Katara states.

She is enjoying how affected Zuko is from this, overwhelmed in the best way just like she is.

“Cum for me,” she leans up, lips against his as she whispers, “cum for me, my love.”

He is panting hard against her mouth, but he briefly nods, head slamming back into the headboard. He is breathing heavily as relief floods him, but there is disbelief written all over his face from her sudden statement.

“Yes, yes, oh spirits please,” he whimpers out, can I really,” a squeeze from Katara’s hand makes his breath shudder, “ _fuck—_ can I cum?”

He wants this to be good for Katara, he wants her to see his vulnerability, even if asking for permission is humiliating, he does this for her.

“Of course, Zuko,” Katara reassures him, her gaze not shifting away as Zuko finally _looks_ at her.

It’s addicting. This power she feels.

“Come on love,” she whispers, “let me see how undone you are for me.”

Zuko nods with half lidded eyes, his choked out moans almost becoming cries of relief when they escape him.

“And then,” she whispers against his trembling lips, “you can have me Zuko.”

His mind is spiraling, his body tensing as Katara continues to handle his throbbing manhood.

He presses his head back into the headboard, eyelids clenching shut as his body convulses beneath her, “Yes-yes-yes,” his words blur together, “I w-want to fuck you, always, you—you’re so beautiful, so fuc-ucking _beautiful_.”

Katara feels herself responding to his words alone. Even when Zuko is extremely vulnerable, putting his trust and pleasure in her hands, he still feels the need to compliment her. Katara cannot wait much longer. She _needs_ to feel him inside her soon.

She quickens her pace more as she leans into him, her lips gliding over his sweaty, exposed neck. Her teeth bite into his flesh and it causes him to jerk into her for a brief moment. She is marking him, claiming him as her own. It’s as if he can read her mind, for his next words have her practically dripping.

“A-ah fuck-fuck—,” he’s panting hard, “I’m yours—I’m yours, my love.”

The confession sounds _too_ authentic, making the pleasure coursing through her veins amplify.

“You are mine,” she breathes against the shell of his ear, “only mine,” her grip tightens around him as she continues to stroke him without mercy, “and I cannot wait to feel you inside of me, claiming me and marking me as yours.”

That thought alone, has Zuko straining his head back, whining, breath hitching as he suddenly cums, finally being pushed over the edge. The veins in his neck bulge, his chest heaves like he can’t get enough air in his lungs. His moans are extremely loud, echoing off the walls of the chamber. His knees slightly move toward him, pushing Katara further into his lap, but she doesn’t mind at all. She strokes Zuko through his intense orgasm, her hand being coated by his essence.

“T-tara,” Zuko sobs as his hands clench tightly into fists. He adjusts himself so it’s easier to breathe, shifting her toward him a little more. His breathing shallows finally, slowly coming down from his height, panting shallow breaths, his gaze unwavering from Katara’s face.

“So good, Tara,” the nickname makes her toes curl and her breath hitches softly. She is still slowly, teasingly stroking him into overstimulation and she can see it is beginning to affect him. The way his brow furrows and his neck strains when he leans back. His hands itch above his head and Katara bites her lip, removing her hand from his cock and slowly goes to stroke his sides lovingly as he comes down.

“Are you still with me, Zuko?” she asks softly.

Zuko let’s out a sigh, taking a moment for himself to completely relax.

“Yes, love,” he sighs, he can feel her essence leaking onto his skin and he chuckles softly, “would you like me to take care of you now?”

Katara pinches his side, chuckling in disbelief. She cannot comprehend how he still has so much stamina left.

“Do you not wish to relax for a moment?” Katara asks, not expecting a serious response.

“You just had an amazing release because of me, aren’t you exhausted?”

Zuko ignores her question, his gaze examining her and it makes Katara shy away just a little.

He sighs heavily, “You’re so beautiful like this,” he smiles fondly at her, resting his head against one of his arms that remain secured above him, “always so beautiful.”

Katara blinks, she is somewhat speechless. She isn’t use to such tender whispers, “Zuko,” she smacks his abs playfully.

“You sure know how to tease, Tara,” Zuko says before he clears his throat, “are you going to undo these confines so I can ravish you just the way you like it?” His hands clench and unclench above his head.

As blissful as that sounds, Katara has something else in mind. With a click of her tongue, Katara shakes her head softly.

“I want to ride you,” she says, hands trailing down his stomach and over his thighs, “just like this.”

Zuko takes a deep breath, “Darling,” eyes focusing on hers.

Katara leans back, between his spread legs and she rests hers over his hips, “I need to be prepared enough for you,” she whispers, her hand trailing down her neck, teasing over her nipple, down her navel until she reaches her sensitive bud. Slowly she begins to circle her fingers around, jolts of pleasure rush up her spine and warmth settles into the pit of her stomach.

Zuko’s gaze turns ravenous at the sight, “Tara—love,” he says breathlessly, his arms remain unmoving above him, even though he looks restless, “let me at lease do that,” he shifts beneath her weight and Katara smirks, “I _want_ to, love.”

Katara lifts her head, lips pursed, “I don’t think so darling,” her fingers slowly glide into her wet heat, “just enjoy the show, Zuko,” she gasps, head falling back and her body arching up as she begins to move her fingers into her sex.

“Fuck,” he breathes harshly, “Tara.”

Her eyes roll back into her head and she pulls her fingers out, gliding up to her bundle of nerves. She toys with it again, her breath hitching in the back of her throat as she hits that spot _just right._

Zuko licks his lips, eyes focusing on Katara’s fingers and his cock begins to ache.

Again she slides two fingers in, the tight, wetness she’s met with let’s her know that she is slick enough for him. But she enjoys the torture.

A few breathy moans escape her as she grinds down on her fingers as they move inside her, the pleasure making her sigh in relief.

“Spirits,” Zuko murmurs, eyes suddenly fixated on Katara’s face and the way it’s expressing her pleasure, “so damn gorgeous.”

The compliment makes Katara moan as the wet sounds from her fingers pace increasing reaches her ears. She smiles briefly at Zuko before her head falls back once more, the pleasure consuming her.

She bites her lip, feeling her thighs quiver slightly.

Zuko’s jaw clenches as he notices bruising around her wrists and on her thighs and he tries to push it far from his mind and simply focus on Katara.

Suddenly she is pulling her fingers out and is arching her body toward his. Her hands spread over his chest as she hovers over him and adjusts herself before gently grabbing Zuko’s cock and slides down in one go. She doesn’t want to waste anymore time.

She immediately clenches around him from the sudden pleasure, making Zuko groan. She stays still for a few moments, sensing that Zuko wants to move his hands, perhaps to her waist, but Katara only gives him a gentle smile as a response. The affection shown through Zuko’s actions reassures Katara just how much he desires to please her.

“Zuko—” she breathes out as a tingling sensation travels up her spine.

“You—” Zuko hisses as Katara begins to slowly grind against him, hands on his chest, “fuck, my cock, love. It’s so sensitive Katara,” he throws his head back momentarily, steam expelling from his mouth. The ice manacles begin to melt slightly, frigid water drips down onto his shoulder and slides down his chest.

Katara begins to bounce, loving the way Zuko’s gaze is burning across every inch of her body. She bites her lip as she watches the way Zuko tries to restrain himself from burnin through her ice.

“Spirits Zuko—” her breasts bounce, a hand comes to fondle one, “I need to forget—I need-ed you—” her breath hitches as she angles her hips slightly so, hitting that spot deep inside her.

Zuko’s brow furrows, his breathing is ragged, he wants her to feel his words, “You’ve got me Katara, I’m here now,” he starts immediately as he lets out small moans.

Katara is definitely not taking it slow now, she craves Zuko’s hands on her, but she keeps going as they are.

“Keep going Katara,” he breathes out brokenly, “just like that love.”

Katara whimpers at his words and the gentle tone he uses, “Zuko,” she can feel herself getting more worked up.

Zuko knows that she needs affection, that she needs him and he is trying to be there in the only way he knows how right now. He wants to comfort her, hold her and crush her beneath him and make her forget everything his father did to her. He could do it. It would be so simple to break through her icy confines, but he needs to move at her pace and do as she wishes.

Zuko can tell by her movements that she is getting exhausted. Her thighs quiver around him, but she doesn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon.

“Release me, love.”

Katara shakes her head while letting out a small groan of frustration. Zuko’s voice sounds so patient. It would be so easy, Zuko is right here, beneath her and ready to fuck her so well, but she needs this, if only for a little while longer.

“Baby,” Zuko moans, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Katara is grinding against him, her energy fleeting fast. She leans forward, her forehead colliding with the space between his neck and shoulder and she shudders when she feels his breath hot against her ear.

“There is no shame in it,” Zuko whispers, “release me love, so I can make you feel even better. I want to make you feel exquisite.”

The grinding makes the tip of Zuko’s cock reach that spot where it feels so divine, but it isn’t enough, not enough to make her reach her own climax. She bites her lip, not wanting to give him power just yet.

“Katara.”

It isn’t enough. She needs him.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers seductively in her ear and it causes her body to tremble.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks.

“Unfreeze me love, right now.”

Katara finally caves to him. She nods into his shoulder, not noticing how her thighs have begun to quiver from holding her up, while mindlessly grinding down into Zuko.

She quickly melts the ice, hands restless while Zuko’s arms remain unmoving. The man beneath her waits, aimlessly gazing at her while pulling his legs up. Katara is too focused on tossing the water out onto the balcony to not notice Zuko has her completely leaning forward, knees pressing against her back.

The moment a sigh of relief leaves her, Zuko’s lips are on hers and he is kissing her. Katara moans in the kiss as her hands tangle deep into silt black locks. Hands immediately find her waist, stroking up and down aimlessly, feeling her everywhere as Zuko draws back, both panting helplessly.

Slowly Zuko sinks down on the bed, to where is body is laying flat against the mattress with Katara pressed firmly against him.

She chuckles softly and goes to lean backward, but she doesn’t make it far before Zuko’s arms wrap around her and pulls her back down again. Katara’s eyes widen at the action, her hands gripping at Zuko’s shoulders.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” Zuko murmurs, his breath mixing with hers. He proceeds to slowly grind upwards into her tight heat, making Katara whine helplessly.

“Just relax now love. Let me take care of you.”

Katara nods, kissing him once more, never quite satiated. The arms around her tighten their grip and suddenly Zuko’s heels are digging into the mattress, with his knees bent. He snaps his hips once, his thick cock filling up Katara better than ever. The pleasure wracks her body, having no mercy whatsoever.

_Spirits._

Katara cries out, panting with furrowed brows, “Yes—spirits—yes!”

Her body feels limp and fluid against Zuko’s hold, the Prince hugging her close by the waist and putting his weight on his heels. He starts to thrust upwards and into Katara’s addictive heat, as well as pulling her up and down on his cock. Katara’s loud, frantic moans echo throughout the chamber, quickly she bites down on one of Zuko’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to silence herself.

Fingers dig into her waist as Zuko chuckles breathlessly, his thrusts going deeper and deeper.

A hand glides up her spine, cupping the back of her neck, before finally grabbing a fistful of hair to pull Katara from his neck, “Now, now, love, don’t silence yourself,” he crushes their lips together, his tongue licking into her moist heat, “I want to hear what I do to you,” he breathes into her mouth and Katara nods her head obediently.

Zuko grinds against her and adjusts himself briefly before continuing, his eyes capturing the blissful expressions that appear on Katara’s face. She looks a complete mess, but a mess he loves to see.

“R-right there, right there,” Katara moans, her body twitching and her toes curling, “oh my—fuck—u-uh don’t stop Zuko! _Please don’t stop_!”

Zuko bites at her exposed throat, his hips snapping with more vigor than before, “Never,” he grunts out, teeth sinking into her flesh.

Katara whines as she continues to ramble from feeling overwhelmed, her body shaking against Zuko’s.

“I want— _please_ —feels so _good_ , spirits, harder Zu-uko, more, I need more!” her breathy pleas do things to him and he cannot help the way his body responds to her begging.

Zuko suddenly grips her hair with one hand as he proceeds to trail kisses from her jaw, down her neck before licking a strike upwards. He pounds into her even harder, working those muscles as the sound of skin slapping, wet squelching and their moans bounce off the walls of his private rooms.

Katara is so close, feeling the most wonderful, familiar buildup that has her almost bursting at the seams.

“Are you close my love?” Zuko whispers breathlessly against the shell of her ear before he takes her earlobe between his teeth.

“Yes, spirits, yes!”

Oh how the roles have reversed.

Soon her body is wracked with an explosion of pleasure and she trembles and jitters against Zuko. Her orgasm is almost blinding. Zuko keeps her against him, fucking her through it. It is so _good_ , she was already so worked up from teasing Zuko that she knew only a little bit would make her climax.

She’s ready to collapse when she feels Zuko’s breath hitch in her ear, “Again,” her eyes widen as she feels herself being flipped over, her back pressing into the mattress with Zuko between her thighs.

Her mouth is gaping as she pants, the overstimulation becoming too much. Zuko doesn’t seem to mind as he slowly thrusts into her sex, hips rolling against her like waves against the beach.

It’s too much.

Katara cries out, hips jerking from the sensitivity that consumes her. Zuko leaves wet kisses on her neck, seeming to enjoy how he can ruin her. Katara is almost sobbing at this point, unshed tears blur her vision. Her eyes almost roll in the back of her head, feeling the sweet continuous torture of her spot being touched inside her.

Suddenly he is slipping from between her thighs and it has Katara moaning the loudest. As torturous as it is, she’s enjoying what he is doing to her and she tries to lock her ankles behind his back.

“Turn around.”

Her mind goes blank for a second before she twists beneath him. Soon she is on her knees and elbows, feeling more vulnerable now, just waiting for Zuko to touch her. It’s nerve wracking but somehow in the best way, there’s a rush to not knowing what he’s about to do next.

She hears Zuko exhale deeply.

Her eyes remain fixated on the silk sheets under her, but it is proving to be difficult. The high she was riding is slowly dwindling and she wants Zuko to do something. To touch her, fuck her, anything just—

_Oooh._

A tongue licks at her vagina, wet and hot and gone as soon as it came. Katara takes a deep breath, her fists clenching into the silk sheets in frustration.

Suddenly there are hands on her thighs, pulling her body down the bed and against Zuko’s inviting mouth. She cries out as she feels his tongue enter her, licking up at their combined juices. Her head drops to the mattress as her back arches, pushing her sex into him more. She bites at her lower lip, her breath coming out in short bursts from her nose and she is beginning to feel overwhelmed.

A finger soon slides in and she feels his other hand on her ass, spreading her open for him. Soon another finger joins, slowly teasing her, stroking her insides and curling and brushing up against that spot that makes her legs go weak.

Weight presses against her back, her head falls onto the mattress, “I’m going to make you forget,” he nibbles on her ear, while his fingers still twist and thrust inside her, “I promise love.”

She feels his breath on her back, his lips and tongue start a slow, torturous trail down the column of her spine and it causes her body to jerk at the sensation.

Her toes curl, a moan is tuck in the back of her throat, “Y-yes,” she whimpers, her breathing increasing, “please Zuko,” her hand travels back and grasps the wrist of the hand that is still on her ass, “make me forget.”

Soon enough the pleasure is tenfold when she feels his tongue and fingers working her like a finely tuned instrument. Her breathing is heavy as moans seem to just pour out if her, loud and choked up, all for Zuko to relish in.

And he does.

She can feel the buildup in her gut, that tight, hot, explosive heat, churning inside her and she doesn’t know how much more she can take. Subtly she feels his fingers abandon her hole, leaving her to clench around his tongue as he continues to invade her. His hands slowly glide over her ankles, up her calves, around to the tops of her thighs before ghosting over the swell of her cheeks.

Her body involuntarily pushes back against him, needing, craving something more.

“Z-Zuko,” she moans as she feels him pull away, his breath hot on her sex, “please, love, fuck me.”

She is delirious with lust and her body overstimulated, but there is nothing more she craves right now than him between her thighs, pounding into her until they are both spent.

Katara whimpers when she feels his teeth nip at her cheek, soon replaced with a kiss. One hand trails up her back and grabs a fistful of her tossed locks, pulling her head back, “What is it you want?”

Defiantly, Katara grinds back against him, her body jolts with pleasure when she can _feel_ his manhood hard and ready for her.

She turns her head, looking at him with hooded eyes, “I said,” she grinds back, causing his breath to hitch, “fuck me,” she punctuates her last two words.

Zuko groans seemingly affected by her words and by her grinding into him. He proceeds to manhandle Katara onto her back again and pulls her closer, making her legs rest on either side of his hips.

Her dazed eyes look up at Zuko, the way he bites his slick lips while on his knees between her thighs. His body is worthy of praise and she cannot believe that when she got off the vessel, that she would have found herself beneath the Prince of the Fire Nation.

With one more pull of her body, Zuko hisses as he leans forward so their foreheads are touching, completely trapping her beneath him. Katara feels the slight stretch from her legs as he open her up like a lotus, but she cannot seem to mind.

Then she feels it, the tip of Zuko’s cock sliding in.

She gasps, her brows furrow together as her arms grab at the pillows beneath her. She’s pretty sure she hears a soft _fuck_ moaned from Zuko. Slowly he plunges deep inside her, the thickness of him stretching her walls, pressing against each sensitive nerve within drives her mad. Her eyes close as she feels him grind into her, hands wrap around her wrists, pinning her hands above her head and _spirits,_ does that make the pangs of arousal intensify.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Zuko mutters under his labored breathin, his cock buried and twitching within her, “you drive me crazy, Katara.”

Katara moans as Zuko gently moves his hips, his movement becoming faster and faster, the pleasure quickly expanding throughout her entire body.

It’s extremely difficult to muster anything coherent. She’s feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happening and the way Zuko fucks her even deeper with her legs wrapping around his waist. She never wants to come down from this. He is her drug and she doesn’t want to come back to reality. She loves how intoxicated she is by him.

Suddenly Zuko goes faster, harder, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and moans fill the air as Katara leans her head back, her mouth unable to close.

No, she’s never coming down from this.

Hands intertwine with her own as Zuko quickly adjusts himself before ramming back in, his hips unforgiving and the tip of his cock touching right at the spot that makes Katara lose control.

Her moans immediately rise in pitch and the rational part of her that is buried in the back of her mind, mentally apologizes for the commotion that the guards posted outside, most likely are hearing.

“C-close, I’m so— _fuck, fuck,_ ” she cries out, attempting to open her eyes, “I’m so close Zuko,” her moans are breaking and Zuko seems to be just as far gone as she is.

He’s trying to control his moans that are escaping him, but he can no longer hold back, “You are so beautiful my love.”

The compliment, though he has said many times, makes her wail. She cannot hold herself back. Her body is trembling at the way he holds her as he continues to slam into her.

His hands release her wrists so they can rest on either side of her head and Katara uses that moment to cup his face and bring him into her for a searing kiss.

He returns it in kind and soon, they are both panting together, foreheads pressing into one another’s, while Katara still holds his face in her hands, “I _can’t—_ please Zuko—” she tries to hold on, to wait for him but the pleasure is just _too_ intense. She’s too far gone, she can’t, she physically _cannot—_

 _“Cum for me love,”_ Zuko whispers against her lips.

Katara gasps, quickly inhaling and exhaling like she has just been sparring. With furrowed brows and slightly open eyes, she can barely make out Zuko’s face as she is hit with one of the most intense orgasms she’s ever experienced.

Zuko continues his pace, fucking her through it and watching her blissed expressions. His jaw tightens and he moans into her neck when Katara’s sex clenches and unclenches around him uncontrollably.

Words are whispered into her ear, a hand strokes at her cheek and another grips her outer thigh. He slows his pace and grinds into her, his cock pressing into her sweet spot and it’s driving her mad.

_“You’re doing so well love.”_

The moment Zuko let’s go of her hands, Katara immediately moves them around his shoulders, fondling with the dark hair at his nape. Her sight is less blurry and she cannot stop a whine from sudden overstimulation that consumes her.

Zuko stops grinding inside her and proceeds to snap his hips again, chasing his own release as he buries his face in Katara’s neck.

“ _Fuck.”_ Moans escape him, his voice is muffled and reverberating against Katara’s flesh and her arms and legs tightens around him.

Katara kisses and mouths at Zuko’s shoulders while whimpering softly from the abuse her g-spot is experiencing from her overstimulation after her own release. But she loves it all the same.

“Shit, Katara,” Zuko hisses out as Katara’s blunt nails scratch at his back.

She’s gasping as he hits her spot over and over, “You’re so—spirits Zuko!”

His breathing becomes faster and faster, his body on the cusp of release. His hip movements turn slightly sloppy and Katara clenches around him, bringing him that much closer to the edge.

Slowly he moves his head back, his dark, golden eyes staring down at Katara, groaning at the sight of her.

She can’t even imagine what she must look like.

_Wrecked._

“Katara—” Zuko grunts out with furrowed brows.

She grips at his hair, pulling him into her, “Cum for me love,” she licks up his throat, “erase him from within me,” she breathes.

Her words seem to push him over the edge.

He releases his essence inside her, hips stuttering against her as he closes his eyes. His hair is a mess from sweat and Katara fondling with it and his back burns with tracks left from her nails, but he doesn’t mind any of it.

**OK VIRGIN EYES, YOU MAY READ ON FROM HERE**

He’s beautiful and dangerous and Katara is somewhat concerned by how fast she is falling for him. How quickly she is relying on him. Her mind is hazy and swirling with a hundred thoughts but she silenced her mind as she focuses on Zuko.

He stills above her for a few moments, but of them panting in the silence. Slowly he opens his eye, the soft, tender, feline eyes are back and they are gently gazing down at her.

“Fuck,” he smiles softly, “that was so—fuck.”

His head hangs down a bit, his dark locks shielding his face from Katara’s searching eyes.

She chuckles as she cups Zuko’s cheek, feeling pure bliss coursing through her body.

“Thank you,” she whispers, she leans up slightly and proceeds to give him a kiss, that quickly turns into several more.

Zuko hums against her skilled mouth, not wanting to pull away from her, but he fears he’ll continue their coupling if he doesn’t stop now. Their bodies need rest.

Slowly he pulls away, his thumb running along her bottom lip and Katara pouts from his absence, “Let me clean you up,” he leans down, pecking her on the lips before pushing himself off the bed.

Katara nods and moves her arms beside her. The silk sheets are soaked in their sweat and other fluids and she feels herself grow hot at the thought.

She turns to watch as Zuko walks to the washroom, his back to her and she appreciates the view. He stumbles a bit as he runs his hand through his sweat soaked locks and she smiles. At least she isn’t the only one affected by their love making.

The soaked sheets return to the forefront of her mind and she lifts her hand up, seeing just how soaked the sheets are. Quickly she pulls all things liquid from the sheets and rolls it all into a swirling ball, before freezing it and launching it out the balcony.

After a few moments, Zuko is back, requesting that she lay on her stomach to make it easier for him to clean. Katara listens and rolls over slowly, suddenly feeling her eyes her heavy with sleep. The sex has left her feeling exhausted and she barely registers Zuko cleaning her body with a cool rag.

Soon enough he is back, slipping into the bed next to her and extinguishing the small candles around the room. A cool breeze drifts into the chamber, goosebumps form on her newly damp skin and it causes her to shift next to him.

Strong arms encircle her, pulling her to him and Katara mewls at the comfort she finds being wrapped up in his arms.

His voice is strained, she can tell that his emotions are running wild, lips moving in her hair, “I will never leave your side again, my love,” he presses a kiss to her forehead before readjusting himself to where her head is tucked beneath his chin.

Katara doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She reciprocates her affection and understanding by gently kissing his chest, just above his heart before nestling back against him. Her eyes slowly flutter shut and she finds herself consumed by darkness and surrounded by the smell of sandalwood and smoke.

***~*~***

“This is goodby, I guess,” Sokka holds his hand out for a warrior’s handshake.

Seiran raises a brow at him, his lips pull up into a smile, “Brothers don’t shake hands, Sokka,” and he pulls his little brother into him, crushing him into a tight embrace.

“Look after her or I’ll kill you,” Sokka grunts, jabbing his brother in his side.

Seiran pulls away, pushing Sokka playfully in the process, “Don’t you worry, I’ll keep her safe.”

“Be careful,” Sokka warns, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.”

There’s a grunt behind him, “Once again, I’m chopped liver,” Ensei grumbles, “is it because I _look_ like a firebender? Is that the root of your discrimination?”

Sokka smacks Ensei and his brother just laughs.

Ensei comes up to Seiran, hand clapping his shoulder, before he too pulls him in for a hug, “Keep your wits about you in that place. Head down and stay focused on the task at hand.”

Seiran nods, “I will brother, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

“If they so much as get an incl—”

“They won’t,” Seiran cuts Ensei off, “I’d rather die.”

Ensei nods and pats Seiran’s back before pulling away, “Good. Send letters often. Send Katara my love!”

“Mine too!” Sokka yells after Seiran as he makes his way toward the ship.

“I’ll see you both soon!”

Quickly he turns from them, making his way up the gangplank and he sighs. His shoulders weigh heavy with the responsibility and the risk that he’s about to face. But it’s Katara. She’s worth the risk a thousand times over.

_I’m coming Katara._

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? I’m very new to this site, so please, leave a comment to let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> See you soon!


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